HESTER  STANLEY'S 
FRIENDS 


HARRIET  PRESCOl 
SPOFFORD 


HESTER   STANLEY'S   FRIENDS. 


HARRIET    PRESCOTT 

SPOFFORD'S 
STORIES     FOR     GIRLS 

Hester  Stanley  at  St.  Marks. 

She  never  writes  dull  or  unprofitable  pages, 
and  it  is  something  to  be  grateful  for  that  such 
writers  take  hold  of  the  matter  of  making  a 
worthy  literature  for  the  young.  —  Los  Angelet 
Herald. 

Hester  Stanley's  Friends. 

Her  breadth  and  culture,  her  geniality  and 
optimism,  pervade  these  pages,  while  the  sim- 
pler elements  of  a  good  story  are  not  lacking. 
—  Literary  World. 

Illustrated.    i6mo.   Cloth.   $1.25  each. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,     &    CO.,     Publishers 
BOSTON,  MASS. 


HESTER   STANLEY'S 
FRIENDS. 


BY 

HARRIET  PRESCOTT  SPOFFORD. 


ElfagtratrtJ 
BY  FRANK  T.  MERRILL. 


BOSTON : 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1898, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


NOTE. 

Thanks  for  courtesy  of  reprint  are  due  to  Messrs. 
Harper  and  Brothers,  Mr.  S.  S.  McClure,  the  Publishers 
of  "  St.  Nicholas,"  of  the  "  Youth's  Companion,"  of  the 
"  Congregationalist,"  and  others. 


20921 oO 


/ 

CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

BELLA'S  CHOICE 3 

A  CHRISTMAS  THAT  WAS  CHRISTMAS     ....  29 

JULE'S  GARDEN 61 

APRIL  SHOWERS 83 

RAFE 107 

THE  LITTLE  BLACK  FIDDLE 129 

BILLY  AND  HIS  GRANDMOTHER 145 

REMADE 173 

THE  FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S 201 

LITTLE  ROSALIE 231 

AT  OLD  BENBOW 265 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

FROM   DRAWINGS   BY   FRANK   T.  MERRILL. 

"MRS.  TENTERDEN  CAME  UP  ONE  OF  THE  WALKS 
WITH  HER  ARMS  FULL  OF  GREAT  WHITE 
LILIES  " Frontispiece 

"'FOR  A  DOLLAR?'  ASKED  THE  FLORIST,  SMIL- 
ING" .  . Page  76 

"  THEN  THE  WALLS  OF  THE  ROOM  WERE  VIBRANT 

ABOUT     THEM,     AND     SlGNOR     PAZZANI    WAS 

PLAYING  ON  THE  LITTLE  BLACK  FIDDLE  "     .     140 
" '  NEVER  MIND  THAT,'  SAID  THE  DOCTOR,  SITTING 

DOWN  ON  A  STUMP" 175 


HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 


HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 


BELLA'S  CHOICE. 

\  T  7HEN  Bella  Brook  left  St.  Mark's  for 
*  •  home,  it  was  with  but  a  vague  idea  of 
what  home  was,  for  she  had  not  been  there  in 
all  of  four  or  five  years,  having  usually  spent  the 
vacations  with  Mrs.  Tenterden,  an  old  friend  of 
her  own  father's.  Her  home  was  several  hundred 
miles  away,  and  it  had  been  thought  unwise  that 
she  should  make  such  a  journey  three  or  four 
times  a  year. 

In  reality  it  had  been  unwise  to  let  her  go 
instead  to  Mrs.  Tenterden's,  for  it  was  not  only 
accustoming  her  to  a  way  of  life  different  from 
anything  she  had  had  in  the  past,  or  was  likely 
to  have  in  the  future,  but  it  was  weaning  her 
from  the  old  associations,  from  the  mother  and 


4  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

the  children,  and  separating  her  even  from  the 
chance  of  learning  to  love  and  be  loved  by  the 
step-father  there. 

How  delightful  it  was,  though,  the  last  time 
she  went  to  Mrs.  Tenterden's !  A  coach  had 
taken  her  at  the  station,  and  rolled  out  along 
wide  highways  and  into  green  lanes,  and  at 
length  had  entered  the  avenue  of  ancient  cedars, 
gnarled  in  wrestling  with  perhaps  ten  thousand 
storms,  and  at  the  portico  Mrs.  Tenterden,  in  her 
floating  muslins,  had  hurried  down  the  steps  to 
meet  her  with  open  arms,  and  Adrian  and  Louis 
at  the  same  time  had  come  in  from  their  gallop 
on  the  sands,  and  Evelyn  and  Rosa  had  run  up 
from  the  terrace,  with  its  great  urns  and  vases 
heaped  with  flowers  and  overlooking  the  sea. 
And  then  the  girls  had  taken  her  up  to  her  room, 
and  Mrs.  Tenterden  had  a  new  dress  of  soft 
white  wool,  with  broad  ribbons,  ready  for  her  to 
put  on  as  soon  as  she  had  emerged,  under  the 
hands  of  Fifine,  the  maid,  from  the  dust  and  soil 
of  her  journey ;  and  a  little  later  they  had  all  had 
tea  on  the  terrace  as  the  moon  rose  and  the  sun 
set,  and  the  soft  purple  twilight  put  on  a  sort  of 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  5 

glory  with  the  splendor  of  the  heavens  and  the 
shimmer  of  the  sea ;  and  then  they  had  lingered, 
telling  the  school  news  and  the  family  news, 
with  the  flower  scents  floating  about  them,  till 
the  sound  of  the  surf  booming  below  had  slowly 
silenced  them,  and  then  they  had  all  gone  in  to 
sweet  sleep  and  lovely  dreams. 

The  next  morning  how  perfect  was  the  sun- 
shine pouring  over  the  sheer  velvet  lawns  and 
through  the  crimson  flames  of  the  roses ;  how 
sweet  was  the  breath  of  the  honeysuckle;  how 
intoxicating  the  full  soft  wind  blowing  apart  the 
curtains ;  how  delicious  all  the  sense  of  light  and 
beauty  and  luxury  !  • —  the  sense,  too,  that  here 
she  could  stay  indefinitely  if  she  would;  here, 
where  there  were  no  lesson  bells,  no  teachers,  no 
hours,  no  bonds,  no  restraints  at  all,  but  just 
delightful  pleasure  and  rest  and  idleness !  Well, 
she  was  a  little  tired,  and  that  must  be  her 
excuse  if  pleasure  seemed  too  pleasant. 

Mrs.  Tenterden,  in  a  loose  burnoose  of  some 
creamy  stuff,  held  about  her  throat  by  a  gold 
cord  and  tassel,  came  up  one  of  the  walks  with 
her  arms  full  of  great  white  lilies.  How  beauti- 


6  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

ful  she  was !  —  still  a  young  woman,  and  a  very 
wealthy  one,  who  had  wished  to  adopt  Bella  at 
the  time  of  her  father's  death,  and  had  compro- 
mised with  the  mother  on  permission  to  have 
Bella  in  the  vacations,  and  had  made  those 
vacations  seem  to  Bella  like  life  in  fairy-land. 
As  she  looked  at  her,  Bella  was  conscious  that 
she  admired  Mrs.  Tenterden  much  as  she  did  the 
sky,  the  sea,  the  roses  and  lilies ;  and  that  she 
loved  her  beyond  every  one  in  the  world  but 
Miss  Marks.  Her  mother,  of  course,  first;  but 
that  was  a  part  of  herself.  She  felt  a  little  shy 
concerning  her  mother;  she  was  only  sixteen, 
and  she  had  not  seen  her  mother  for  nearly  five 
years. 

"You  think  we  do  nothing  here  but  suck  the 
honey  out  of  the  flowers,"  said  Mrs.  Tenterden, 
as  Bella  sprang  to  take  part  of  the  armful,  and 
put  them  into  the  tall  vases  waiting  in  the  hall, 
through  whose  length  and  breadth  this  sweet 
wind  was  rioting  with  curtains  and  draperies. 
"  Now  I  am  going  to  tell  you.  /  was  up  at  sun- 
rise, and  such  a  pageant  you  never  saw,  unless 
you  have  been  up  at  a  July  sunrise  too.  It  put 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  7 

me  in  mind  to-day  of  what  the  sunrise  might 
have  been  the  morning  after  the  'Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream.' " 

That  was  one  of  the  charms  of  Mrs.  Tenterden, 
Bella  thought,  that  she  talked  to  you  at  sixteen 
just  as  she  would  have  talked  if  you  had  been 
thirty-six.  "Now,"  said  Mrs.  Tenterden,  "as 
soon  as  you  have  breakfasted,  the  phaeton  is 
coming  round,  and  I  am  going  to  run  down  and 
see  my  poor  people — at  least  nobody  is  poor 
such  a  morning  as  this ;  it's  enough  just  to  be  in 
the  world  if  you  are  not  in  suffering  or  pain  — 
but  my  poorer  people ;  and  perhaps  you  will  go 
with  me,  and  we  can  talk  it  over  on  our  way. 
I  mean  to  have  the  '  Midsummer-Night's  Dream ' 
played  on  the  terrace  here,  and  with  all  the 
music  too." 

And  then  Evelyn  and  Rosa  and  Adrian  came 
in ;  and  Louis,  who  had  breakfasted  with  his 
mother  hours  before,  —  as  he  said,  twenty-four 
hours,  —  had  another  cup  of  coffee;  and  Mrs. 
Tenterden  took  a  glass  of  milk,  that  she  might 
be  rebuking  no  one  by  thought  of  her  earlier 
repast;  and  Mrs.  Vane  and  Miss  Morley,  who 


8  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

were  visiting  at  Clifftop,  appeared,  having  break- 
fasted in  their  rooms ;  and  Bella  hardly  knew, 
when  the  phaeton  came  round,  whether  she 
would  rather  stay  with  the  gay  party  on  the 
morning  porch  or  go  with  the  ponies  and  Mrs. 
Tenterden.  But  all  the  same,  she  went ;  and  the 
hoofs  of  Louis's  horse  were  presently  to  be  heard 
after  them. 

What  a  pleasant  way  it  was  to  do  good !  Bella 
thought.  Here  was  the  hamper  that  the  house- 
keeper had  put  up,  with  its  closely  fastened  jars 
of  soup  that  the  cook  had  prepared,  with  the 
jellies,  the  delicately  sliced  bread,  the  tiny  butter 
balls,  the  cutlet  for  this  one,  the  strawberries  for 
that,  the  roll  of  flannel  for  the  old  man's  knees, 
the  little  dresses  that  the  girls  had  made  at  their 
leisure  for  the  new  baby,  the  hot- water  bag  for 
the  sick  old  woman,  the  paper  novels  that  they 
were  done  with  at  the  house,  to  be  left  here  and 
there  wherever  there  was  a  reader,  and  the  rest 
of  the  phaeton  heaped  with  roses  for  dropping  at 
this  door  and  that,  as  if  one  marked  one's  way 
with  flowers.  Now  they  stopped,  and  a  child 
at  the  gate  took  what  they  left  there ;  now  they 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  9 

went  inside  a  door  and  chatted  with  the  person 
that  met  them ;  now  Mrs.  Tenterden  left  Bella, 
and  Louis  tied  his  horse  and  came  and  sat  in  the 
phaeton  while  his  mother  delayed  with  some 
particular  case  that  needed  cheering  or  the  ten 
minutes'  reading  of  a  Psalm;  everywhere  they 
left  the  roses ;  and  at  last  they  drove  home 
through  a  wood  where  the  horses'  feet  sounded 
as  if  they  trod  on  velvet,  where  they  could  see 
lanes  of  sunlight  down  green  mossy  depths,  as  if 
leading  to  lands  of  enchantment,  and  hear  the 
song  of  birds  too  shy  for  open  air  and  not  yet 
hushed  to  noonday  quiet. 

"  It  is  the  very  wood  where  Titania  and  Peas- 
blossom  and  Cobweb  and  the  others  held  their 
revellings,  is  it  not  ? "  said  Mrs.  Tenterden. 
"  Here,  Louis,"  —  as  he  overtook  them,  —  "  now 
come  here  and  advise  with  your  mother  —  you 
are  the  practical  one  —  and  tell  me  how  we  can 
turn  the  sea-terrace  into  the  Athenian  forest,  and 
where  we  can  get  our  players,  and  who  shall  be 
Helena,  and  who  Demetrius,  and  who  Nick 
Bottom,  and  who  Oberon,  and  where  we  shall  find 
the  music  —  Mendelssohn's  music,  you  know." 


10  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Just  out  of  school,  with  all  its  tasks  and  con- 
straints, gentle  and  uplifting  as  the  life  at  St. 
Mark's  had  been,  what  freedom  and  light  sur- 
rounded these  bright  days  for  Bella  !  But  she 
used  to  wish  for  Marcia  and  Hester  to  help  her 
con  her  part  of  the  play ;  she  used  to  wish  for 
them  on  purple  evenings  when  she  leaned  over 
the  parapet  to  watch  the  stars  break  in  the  sea 
as  it  creamed  up  the  beach  below ;  she  used  to 
wish  for  them  in  the  mornings  when  she  and 
Kosa  and  Adrian,  the  groom  sedately  behind,  went 
galloping  their  ponies  through  the  wood,  where 
every  now  and  then  the  sea  broke  into  sight 
upon  the  left,  and  on  the  right  the  water-lilies 
bloomed  in  the  still  pools  where  green  sunshine 
seemed  to  fall. 

And  certainly  she  wished  for  Hester  and  Mar- 
cia when  at  last  came  the  festival  night  of  the 
play  on  the  terrace  —  a  clear  dark  night  without 
a  moon.  Eeal  trees  were  brought  in  from  the 
forest  and  guyed  in  place,  and  the  conservatories 
were  half  emptied  of  their  palms  and  oleanders 
and  camellias  and  long  banner-like  banana-trees 
to  make  the  greenery ;  real  theatre  people  man- 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  11 

aged  the  lights ;  and  there  was  a  part  of  the  Sym- 
phony Orchestra  hidden  in  the  green  for  the 
music ;  the  guests  were  coming  and  going  and 
rustling  and  exclaiming ;  Mrs.  Tenterden  and 
Mrs.  Vane  were  directing  everything  ;  and  Miss 
Morley  and  her  lovers  were  making  a  by-play  of 
their  own.  It  seemed  to  Bella,  in  the  midst  of 
it  all,  that  she  was  no  young  girl  playing  a  part, 
but  a  captive  loosed,  a  bird  set  free,  a  spirit  of 
the  air  itself.  And  the  music,  the  all  but 
heavenly  music,  that  had  in  it  the  murmuring 
of  the  leaves,  the  sparkling  of  the  forest  dew, 
the  twittering  of  the  fays,  the  passion  of  the 
lovers,  the  beauty  of  night,  and  Athens,  and 
fairy-land,  and  love,  all  mingled  together  like  the 
breath  of  many  flowers  in  one  delicious  odor  — 
when  this  music  added  itself  to  all  the  rest,  she 
was  so  beside  herself  with  the  delight  of  the 
whole  thing  that  if  she  had  had  many  lines  to 
say  she  would  have  forgotten  every  one  of  them. 
And  when,  after  it  was  all  over,  Louis  and  Eosa 
stole  down  the  cliff  path  with  her  to  the  beach, 
and  walked  slowly  along  till  they  saw  a  boat, 
and  put  out  in  that,  Louis  rowing  them,  till 


12  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

there  was  nothing  about  them  but  the  purple 
heaven  full  of  stars,  their  rays  breaking  in  the 
purple  sea,  nothing  to  be  heard  but  the  dip  of 
the  oars  and  the  soft  wide  singing  of  the  sea 
itself  to  drown  out  remembrance  of  the  music  — 
then  it  was  all  like  a  dream,  from  which  Bella 
knew  she  must  presently  awake  to  reality. 

A  week  later,  at  the  close  of  three  days  and 
nights  of  hot  and  dusty  travel,  the  train  stopped 
at  the  place  where  her  mother  lived,  and  which 
she  had  always  called  her  home,  and  on  the  first 
glance  at  which  she  could  not  help  exclaiming, 
"  Poor  mother !  oh,  poor  mother  !  " 

There  was  no  one  to  meet  her  at  the  station  ; 
there  was  no  hack  there  at  all;  she  had  to  leave 
her  trunks  with  the  baggage-master,  who  prom- 
ised to  send  them  with  a  man  and  a  wheel- 
barrow ;  and  she  inquired  her  way  on  foot  to 
Mrs.  Parmenter's  —  for  that  had  been  her 
mother's  name  since  the  second  marriage.  She 
found  the  house  at  last,  almost  picturesque  with 
some  trees  and  some  grass,  and  a  general  absence 
of  paint,  but  shabby  and  ill  kept  to  the  point 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  13 

of  disgust,  with  slats  gone  from  the  loose  blinds, 
window-panes  broken,  doors  hanging  on  broken 
hinges,  and  fences  down  in  spots.  A  child  on 
whose  face  there  was  not  a  clean  spot  to  kiss  sat 
in  the  path  making  mud-pies  with  a  spoon,  but 
did  not  give  way  for  her ;  another,  a  little 
younger,  stared  at  her  with  its  thumb  in  its 
mouth  and  its  kitten  held  upside  down  ;  and  a 
third,  face  and  tier  daubed  with  molasses,  leaned 
from  the  open  window,  trying  how  far  she  could 
reach  out  and  not  break  her  neck. 

Was  this  her  mother's  home?  Were  those 
two  the  children  born  since  she  had  been  at 
school  ?  Was  this  one  in  the  molasses  the  little 
Ally  whom  she  had  left  such  a  fair  white  darling 
in  the  cradle  ?  Was  that  person  lounging  in  a 
hammock  made  of  a  piece  of  sacking  and  a  barrel 
stave,  without  a  waistcoat  under  his  drab  linen 
blouse,  reading  a  paper  and  smoking  a  pipe,  the 
man  who  had  married  her  mother  —  her  step- 
father ?  Was  this  her  own  sister  Flossy  leaping 
down  the  stairs  to  meet  her,  with  holes  in  her 
stockings,  with  no  collar  on,  with  her  hair  in  a 
matted  snarl  ?  Was  this  Ben,  her  big  brother, 


14  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

pushing  back  his  chair  and  tripping  over  a  hole 
in  the  carpet,  looking  a  little  less  like  a  gentle- 
man than  his  step-father  ?  Was  this  —  Oh, 
goodness,  no  more  of  it !  But  they  were  dismal 
facts,  —  the  hall,  with  great  stains  on  the  paper ; 
the  stairs,  with  half  the  carpet-rods  gone  and  the 
carpet  bulging  loosely;  the  doors  banged  and 
battered ;  the  slatternly  servant-girl,  whose  hair 
had  never  been  combed,  whose  gown  had  never 
been  washed,  all  sozzled  and  drozzled  with  dish- 
water and  kerosene  and  fat  and  dirt.  But  where, 
oh,  where  was  her  mother,  where  was  her 
mother?  And  Bella  burst  into  tears,  and  ran 
past  them  all  up  the  stairs  to  her  mother's  room, 
where  Mrs.  Parmenter  lay  prostrate  and  half 
dead  with  one  of  her  headaches,  that  she  used 
to  say  produced  torment  and  threatened  idiocy. 

But  it  was  of  no  use  to  cry.  The  children 
must  think  it  was  from  joy  and  excitement  at 
getting  home  again  —  oh,  getting  home  again  ! 
The  mother  must  not  be  disturbed  by  a  thought 
of  any  kind  with  that  trip-hammer  of  pain  fall- 
ing on  her  temples. 

Bella  was  to  share  Flossy's  room,  and  when 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  15 

she  had  been  welcomed  by  her  step-father,  and 
had  found  a  place  clean  enough  to  kiss  on  the 
cheeks  of  the  little  ones,  she  went  and  took  off 
her  things,  and  proceeded  to  open  her  trunks, 
which  had  arrived,  most  of  the  children  pushing 
and  edging  into  the  room  and  gaping  open- 
mouthed  at  the  operation,  only  uttering  thrilled 
ohs  and  ahs  as  Bella  shook  out  her  white  frocks 
and  her  dainty  tea-gowns  —  all  Mrs.  Tenterden's 
gifts  —  and  lifted  tray  after  tray  to  find  some- 
thing suitable  to  wear  without  soiling  in  the 
dusty  confusion  of  the  house. 

"  My  goodness  !  what  a  closet ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, as  she  opened  the  door.  "Please  get 
me  a  duster,  Flossy.  Mercy  !  there  's  no  end  to 
the  dust.  Where 's  Bridget  ?  Is  that  her  name  ? 
Can't  she  come  and  wash  this  place,  so  that  I 
can  hang  up  my  gowns  ? " 

"  She  won't,"  said  Flossy. 

"  Won't  ?     Why  not,  pray  ?  " 

"  She  won't ;  that 's  all  about  it.  Ma  's  sick 
all  the  time,  and  she  has  to  do  everything." 

"  Then  I  '11  do  it  myself,"  said  Bella. 

"You!" 


16  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"Somebody  must.  We  shall  return  to  the 
dust  of  which  we  were  made,  at  this  rate."  And 
presently  she  had  a  scrubbing-pail  and  a  cloth, 
and  had  emptied  that  closet,  and  washed  down 
its  walls,  and  wiped  up  its  floor,  and  felt  a  thrill 
of  satisfaction,  although  her  delicate  hands  were 
smarting  and  her  heart  was  really  aching. 

"  I  don't  like  to  hang  my  nice  things  on  these 
walls,"  she  said  then.  "  I  wonder  if  there  is  n't  a 
sheet  I  can  have ; "  and  she  went  with  the  chil- 
dren to  find  one.  "  But  not  like  this,"  she  said. 

"  They  're  all  like  this,"  said  Flossy. 

"  I  mean  a  whole  one." 

"  There  is  n't  a  whole  one  in  the  house,"  said 
Bessy. 

And  Bella  sat  down  and  sewed  up  the  rip  in 
one,  and  hemmed  over  the  corners  of  another, 
and  hung  one  under  and  one  over  the  dresses,  and 
shut  the  closet  door,  and  proceeded  to  the  bureau. 
"  Oh,  what  a  mess  ! "  she  cried. 

"  I  'm  going  to  give  the  two  upper  drawers  to 
you,"  said  Flossy. 

"Well,"  said  Bella,  feeling  despair  hanging 
just  over  her,  "  we  '11  put  the  whole  thing  to 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  17 

rights."  And  the  bureau  was  cleared  and  wiped, 
and  the  drawers  set  in  order,  and  the  gifts  she 
had  brought  for  the  family  distributed,  to  their 
infinite  delight,  —  a  delight  which  touched  Bella 
almost  to  tears,  those  children  must  have  had  so 
little,  —  and  then  they  all  went  down  together. 

It  had  been  pathetic  to  Bella  to  see  that  pleas- 
ure over  her  small  gifts,  —  small,  because  as 
Mrs.  Tenterden  had  been  at  the  expense  of  her 
education  and  wardrobe  and  everything  else 
while  at  St.  Mark's,  Bella  had  not  felt  it  quite 
right  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  her  money  for  the 
gifts ;  but  the  doll  she  had  dressed  herself  was 
hugged  to  Kitty's  heart  with  rapturous  glee ;  the 
little  stereoscope  and  its  photographs  gave  Bessy 
as  much  pleasure  as  a  trip  through  a  European 
gallery  would  have  given  herself ;  Ben  took  his 
Macaulay  with  a  hungry  avidity  that  gave  her 
a  real  pain  to  see ;  Tommy  would  have  been  in 
a  state  of  bliss  with  his  piccolo  if  the  mother's 
headache  had  allowed  him  to  use  it ;  and  Flossy 
received  her  parasol  entirely  regardless  of  the 
fact  that  she  had  n't  an  article  of  wearing  apparel 

fit  to  associate  with  it. 

2 


18  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Things  were  no  better  downstairs.  The  par- 
lor had  been  gradually  dismantled  to  replace  the 
destruction  of  articles  in  the  sitting-room,  so  that 
its  doors  were  closed,  —  the  only  doors  that  were 
closed,  or  that  would  close,  in  the  house,  by  the 
way.  The  sitting-room  carpet  was  little  better 
than  a  rag ;  the  ceiling  had  been  smoked  in  rings 
every  here  and  there  by  the  lamps  ;  there  was  a 
great  spot  on  the  wall  where  Mr.  Parmenter 
leaned  his  hand  in  changing  his  slippers,  which 
were  kept  behind  the  stove  in  an  accumulation 
of  fluffy  dust,  and  another  spot  where  ink  had 
spattered;  the  paint  of  the  mantelpiece  was 
blistered,  and  had  peeled  off  in  places ;  one  of 
the  table  legs  was  broken ;  there  was  not  a  whole 
chair  in  the  room ;  the  looking-glass  had  a  crack 
in  it;  the  windows  were  thick  with  dust  and 
finger-marks  inside  and  splashes  of  rain  outside  ; 
and  in  the  open  drawer  of  the  table  between 
them  was  a  dirty  comb  and  brush.  The  dining- 
room  —  But  words  fail.  When  Bella  saw  the 
table  set  for  tea,  with  its  soiled  and  crumpled 
cloth,  its  cracked  and  nicked  and  smoked  and 
mismated  dishes,  no  napkins,  no  order,  the  chil- 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  19 

dren  elbowing  and  pushing  and  grabbing,  their 
own  spoons  in  the  sugar,  their  own  knives  in 
the  butter,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  eat  a 
morsel,  and  she  went  out  into  the  kitchen,  which, 
as  she  remembered  the  snow-white  tables,  the 
spotless  floors,  the  shining  range,  the  glittering 
rows  of  pans  in  Mrs.  Tenterden's  kitchen  the  only 
time  she  was  ever  inside  it,  seemed  to  her  squalor 
itself.  There  she  made  a  slice  of  French  toast, 
and  took  it  up  with  a  cup  of  tea  to  her  mother. 

"  Ah,  how  nice  that  is ! "  sighed  'the  mother, 
as  she  saw  the  tray,  which  Bella  had  contrived 
to  find,  covered  with  the  only  clean  napkin  she 
could  lay  her  hands  on.  "  How  good  it  is ! 
Bridget  never  makes  a  cup  of  tea  like  that ;  you 
must  have  made  it  yourself,  dear."  And  Bella, 
dimly  comprehending  her  mother's  helplessness 
and  disappointment,  felt  her  heart  ready  to 
break,  and  longed  to  be  a  comfort  to  her.  She 
combed  out  her  mother's  long  and  pretty  hair 
then,  and  got  some  water  and  cooled  her  face 
and  her  hands  for  her,  and  coaxed  her  into  the 
chair  while  she  freshened  and  made  the  bed. 
"  Oh,"  said  the  mother,  "  you  are  going  to  be 


20  HESTER   STANLEY'S   FRIENDS. 

such  a  comfort  to  me.  I  ought  to  have  some 
compensation  for  all  I  have  been  through." 

Bella  cried  herself  to  sleep  that  night,  think- 
ing of  her  mother,  and  pitying  and  loving  her, 
and  pitying  Flossy  too,  and  her  big  brother  Ben, 
and  feeling  already  a  yearning  affection  for  the 
little  half  brothers  and  sisters,  and  longing  to 
be  of  use  to  them. 

"  Is  n't  it  time  for  school  ? "  she  asked  the 
next  morning. 

"Oh,  we  don't  go  to  school,"  said  Flossy, 
shamefacedly. 

"Don't!     Oh,  why  not?" 

"Well,  there  isn't  any  very  near,  and  our 
clothes,  you  see,"  said  Flossy,  making  a  down- 
ward and  outward  motion  of  her  hands  that 
expressed  plainly  as  words  the  whole  state  of 
disrepair.  "  Ben  is  trying  to  study  all  by  him- 
self, and  sometimes  I  hear  the  primer  lessons, 
and  sometimes  ma  hears  me." 

"  Oh  dear,  dear ! "  said  Bella ;  "  that  is  n't  any 
way.  I  think  you  will  all  have  to  come  to 
school  to  me.  My  box  of  school-books  will  be 
handy  now,  and  we  '11  have  a  school-room  pleas- 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  21 

ant  days  out  under  the  apple-trees  and  rainy 
days  in  my  room."  And  the  idea,  perhaps  ow- 
ing to  its  novelty,  was  at  once  acquiesced  in, 
a  solemn  compact  being  made  from  which  it 
should  not  be  possible  to  withdraw.  "  But  first," 
said  Bella,  "  we  must  help  Bridget  clear  up ;  " 
and  she  found  the  stub  of  a  broom,  which  was 
all  the  broom  there  was,  and  swept  the  floors 
herself.  "I  shouldn't  mind  it,"  she  thought, 
"if  it  were  for  theatricals,  and  I'm  sure  these 
are  theatricals."  And  then  she  apportioned  a 
share  of  the  dusting  to  Flossy  and  Bessy,  and 
afterward  had  them  go  upstairs  with  her  and  try 
and  make  the  beds  decent,  for  the  mother  was 
occupied  with  the  baby,  nursing  which  was  about 
all  she  could  do  when  she  did  n't  have  a  headache. 
"  If  we  make  our  beds,"  said  Bella,  "  and  do  the 
dusting  and  mending,  it  leaves  time  for  Bridget 
to  do  the  heavier  work,  don't  you  see  ? "  And 
of  course,  led  off  by  Bella  just  from  school,  look- 
ing to  them  so  exquisite  in  her  fresh  pink  print 
and  clean  ruffle,  they  were  willing  and  ready 
to  do  all  she  wished ;  and  when,  after  what  she 
called  a  scrap  and  scramble  dinner,  they  found 


22  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

her  on  her  knees  sewing  up  the  holes  in  the 
old  carpet,  it  did  n't  seem  so  hard  to  Flossy  and 
Bessy  to  give  an  hour  themselves  to  darning 
table-cloths  and  mending  sheets  and  pillow-cases 
and  their  own  underwear  before  they  swarmed 
out  to  play  again. 

But  it  was  up-hill  work.  What  little  property 
there  was  to  live  upon  was  in  trust  for  the 
mother,  and  Mr.  Parmenter  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it ;  thus  they  were  sure  of  enough  shelter 
and  food  and  fire.  Mr.  Parmenter  was  very 
good-natured,  and  kept  himself  in  what  he  called 
his  office  most  of  the  time.  But  when,  in  a  few 
weeks,  Bella's  attempt  at  tidying  the  house 
slowly  dawned  on  him,  and  he  realized  that  the 
children  hacj.  clean  faces  and  clean  tiers  and 
smooth  hair  at  table,  and  saw  Bella  washing 
and  wiping  windows  and  trying  to  cover  the 
stains  on  the  wall,  he  seemed  spurred  to  some 
unusual  exertion,  for  a  paper-hanger  and  white- 
washer  one  day  appeared  and  made  a  new  thing 
of  the  downstairs  region,  and  another  day  a 
carpet  came  home  that,  if  its  colors  set  Bella's 
teeth  on  edge,  was  at  least  whole  and  clean ;  and 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  23 

it  was  some  satisfaction  to  observe  that  her  step- 
father approved  of  her,  and  was  willing  to  help 
her  after  a  fashion  all  he  could,  while  her  mother 
seemed  to  feel  that  an  angel  had  come  into  the 
house  and  no  less.  Bella  used  to  think  some- 
times that  probably  she  would  become  an  angel 
if  things  went  on  without  mending  :  if  Kitty  bit 
Ally,  and  Ally  scratched  Tommy,  and  Tommy 
pinched  Bessy,  and  Bessy  made  faces  at  Flossy, 
and  Flossy  slapped  Bessy,  and  Ben  grumbled 
and  growled  at  the  whole  of  them.  Yet  she 
thought  she  saw  the  least  slight  ray  of  improve- 
ment —  and  patience,  who  knew  ?  Still  she  did 
not  dare  remember  the  sweet  decorum  and  hap- 
piness of  St.  Mark's  and  Waterways,  the  bright 
luxurious  gayety  of  Clifftop  and  Mrs.  Tenterden. 
She  had  not  heard  from  Clifftop,  moreover,  for 
so  long  that  she  felt  as  if  they  might  have  for- 
gotten her. 

She  was  thinking  of  this  one  day,  with  her 
eyes  just  one  big  tear,  when  Mr.  Parmenter 
brought  her  a  letter.  It  was  from  Mrs.  Tenter- 
den  ;  it  had  about  it  still  that  sweet  odor  of 
violets  which  was  about  all  her  things.  Bella 


24  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

could  have  kissed  it  as  she  turned  it  over,  and 
held  it  a  moment  before  breaking  the  pretty  seal. 
In  this  letter  Mrs.  Tenterden  wrote  that  Bella 
had  been  left  undisturbed  during  all  these  weeks, 
in  order  that  she  might  acquire  perfect  knowl- 
edge on  which  to  make  her  decision,  and  now  the 
choice  was  offered  to  her  to  stay  where  she  was,  or 
go  to  Mrs.  Tenterden's  and  be  her  own  daughter. 
"My  own,"  wrote  Mrs.  Tenterden,  "in  every- 
thing ;  sharing  with  Evelyn  and  Eosa  and  Adrian 
and  Louis  while  I  live  and  after  I  die,  with  my 
children  for  your  brothers  and  sisters,  with  my 
love  for  you,  with  yours  for  me." 

While  Bella  read  the  words  the  vision  rose  of 
the  lovely  home  at  Clifftop,  the  precision  and 
order  and  luxury,  the  beautiful  rooms,  the  silent 
servants,  the  glimmering  of  the  sea,  —  vision,  too, 
of  the  city  life  in  winter,  with  its  Symphony 
concert  and  matine'e,  with  its  flower  mission,  its 
reading  in  the  hospital,  and  with  the  affection  of 
Eosa  and  Evelyn,  of  Adrian  and  Louis,  and  Mrs. 
Tenterden's  surrounding  grace  and  sweetness  and 
beauty,  —  a  life  of  goodness  made  easy,  of  pleas- 
ure, of  power;  and  she  seemed  to  hear  that 


BELLA'S  CHOICE.  25 

hidden  music  of  the  "Midsummer-Night's  Dream" 
pulsing  through  the  whole  of  it.  And  dimly  as 
she  mused,  across  her  reverie  came  her  mother's 
weak  voice,  fretting  because  Kitty  would  not  let 
the  baby  alone ;  because  Tommy  would  not  have 
his  face  washed  ;  because  Ally  had  no  clean  gown 
to  put  on ;  because  Bessy  would  n't  lay  down 
her  fairy-book,  and  take  Tommy  and  put  him  to 
sleep.  And  Bella  roused  herself  to  see  Flossy, 
smart  with  soiled  ribbons,  strolling  off  with  that 
flaunting  Ewers  girl ;  to  see  her  step-father 
vainly  struggling  to  get  his  hand  into  his  sleeve 
through  the  torn  lining ;  to  see  Ben  worried  and 
perplexed  with  his  slate  and  problem.  "  Oh 
no,"  she  said  to  herself ;  and  presently  she  wrote 
to  Mrs.  Tenterden:  "One  day  I  shall  die,  I 
suppose  —  everybody  does  —  and  go  to  heaven, 
maybe,  and  heaven  then  will  seem  no  lovelier 
to  me  than  life  with  you  does  now.  It  makes 
me  cry.  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  bear  it. 
But  of  course  I  can  ;  and  by-and-by  I  shall  be 
happy.  I  have  been  away  too  long ;  and  no,  oh 
no,  I  cannot  go,  for  I  am  needed.  It  is  a  great 
thing  to  be  needed ;  and  my  duty  is  here." 


A  CHRISTMAS  THAT   WAS 
CHRISTMAS. 


A  CHRISTMAS  THAT  WAS 
CHRISTMAS. 

\T  7HEN  Hester  went  home  with  Marcia 
*  *  Meyer  for  the  Christmas  holidays,  she 
took  with  her  several  crisp  bank-bills  that  Miss 
Marks  gave  her  from  the  allowance  her  father 
had  left  for  her,  and  some  of  the  embroidery 
she  had  learned  how  to  do  of  the  nuns  in  her 
South  Sea  Island  home,  which  looked  like  frost 
crystals  laid  on  snow,  and  with  which  she  meant 
to  make  a  Christmas  frock  for  the  dear  baby  that 
had  been  named  for  her. 

Mr.  Meyer  was  at  the  station  with  the  great 
family  sleigh  brimming  with  little  Meyers,  and 
it  really  seemed  so  delightful  to  Hester  to  be 
met  by  such  a  loving  swarm  of  welcoming  arms 
and  smiles  and  voices,  that  she  wondered  how 
Marcia  could  bear  to  stay  at  school  at  all. 


30  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"Why,  if  you  didn't  go  away,"  said  Marcia, 
"you  wouldn't  know  how  good  it  is  to  come 
back." 

"  I  was  so  afraid  they  would  n't  let  you  come," 
said  Rosy,  nestling  close  to  Hester,  after  the 
robes  had  been  tucked  in,  and  feeling  that  her 
years  were  more  on  the  level  of  Hester's  friend- 
ship than  Marcia's  were. 

"  Why,  of  course  they  would  when  papa  said 
to,"  exclaimed  Agnes. 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Mr.  Meyer.  "Steady, 
Hassan ! "  —  to  one  of  the  prancing  horses.  "  The 
world  trembles  when  papa  nods  —  all  except  the 
world  under  his  own  roof.  No,  John,  you  can't 
have  the  reins.  I  shall  put  you  over  on  the  back 
seat  among  the  girls,  sir,  if  you  don't  let  them 
alone.  The  horses  are  restive  enough  now." 

And  the  horses  had  their  heads  down,  and  the 
fences  were  skimming  by,  and  the  snow  was 
spinning  from  their  heels  in  big  snowballs  over 
the  dasher,  and  John  and  Bert  were  whooping  as 
if  they  were  cow-boys  riding  the  mule  in  a 
circus,  and  all  at  once  they  turned  a  short 
corner,  and  there  was  a  vast  soft  snow-bank,  and 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          31 

over  went  the  sleigh,  and  out  tumbled  children, 
robes,  satchels,  snowballs,  screams,  laughter,  and 
all ;  and  when  they  scrambled  from  the  powdery 
drift  the  horses  stood  hanging  their  heads 
meekly,  and  Mr.  Meyer,  reins  in  hand,  was  ring- 
ing out  a  great  laugh. 

"  I  could  n't  have  done  any  worse  if  I  had  had 
the  reins  myself,"  exclaimed  John,  shaking  the 
snow  out  of  his  collar,  and  helping  to  tip  the 
sleigh  back. 

"  That 's  the  way  papa  brings  us  up,  Hester," 
cried  Marcia,  climbing  in  again.  "Lets  us 
tumble  up,  you  see." 

But  Hester  thought  it  was  all  part  of  the  play, 
and  presently,  comfortably  bestowed  again,  they 
skimmed  along  till  they  reached  a  dim  pine  wood, 
where  the  motion  of  the  horses  shook  down  soft 
showers  of  snow  from  the  low  branches  through 
which  the  sunset  showed  like  embers  of  a  dying 
fire,  and  from  under  which  they  came  out  on  the 
frozen  lake,  dashing  along  the  smooth  surface 
with  their  hoofs  clicking  like  castanets. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Meyer  pulled  up  the  horses  to 
avoid  running  down  a  party  of  children  on  the 


32  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

ice,  —  a  tiny  fellow  dragging  a  smaller  child  on  a 
board,  and  a  girl  with  a  shawl  over  her  head  and 
about  her  arms  running  along  beside  them,  with 
now  a  step  and  now  a  slide,  blue  with  cold,  but 
her  laugh  gay  as  a  bird's  song. 

"They're  going  to  get  on  the  runners," 
screamed  Eosy.  "Don't  let  them,  papa;  oh, 
don't  let  them  ! " 

"  Whip  behind ! "  cried  Bert. 

"  Oh,  papa !  Are  n't  you  ashamed,  Eosy  ? " 
cried  Marcia.  "  Do  let  them !  Here,  catch  on, 
boy !  Now  give  me  your  hand " —  to  the  girl. 
"  Go  slow,  papa,  please ;  let  her  tumble  right  in 
here  with  us ;  there 's  so  many  of  us,  we  "11  keep 
each  other  warm.  And  see  !  the  baby  '11  fall  off 
that  board  if  the  horses  start.  What  a  pretty 
baby  !  What  great  blue  eyes !  Here,  hand  her 
over,  son.  Now,  you  see,  you  can  hold  on 
there." 

And  as  the  boy  caught  on  for  answer,  the  little 
girl  and  the  half-frightened  smaller  child  were 
tucked  in  among  them,  and  the  horses  were 
making  their  best  rate  of  speed  down  the  lake. 

"  Did  n't  you  ever  have  a  sleigh-ride  before  ? " 


A   CHRISTMAS    THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          33 

asked  Marcia  of  the  little  girl.  "Don't  crowd 
that  way,  Agnes." 

"No,  'm." 

"Nor  I,  either,"  said  Hester,  leaning  gently 
toward  the  child,  smiling  at  her  with  her  own 
great  dark  eyes,  and  taking  one  of  her  cold  hands 
into  her  muff. 

"  You ! "  said  the  child.  "  Lor',  'm  ! "  as  if  that 
were  something  unnatural.  "But  sometimes," 
she  added,  to  present  the  best  side  of  her  case, 
"  Ben  takes  me  on  the  board.  And  sometimes  I 
take  him  —  only  it 's  heavy.  He 's  going  to 
make  a  sled,"  she  continued  her  confidences 
presently,  "when  he  gets  a  hammer  and  some 
nails.  He 's  got  a  knife,  a  real  beauty  of  a  jack- 
knife,  and  he's  whittled  out  the  runners.  He 
can  use  a  stone  instead  of  a  hammer  when  he 
gets  the  nails." 

"I'll  give  him  some  nails,"  said  Bert,  leaning 
back. 

"  Take  care,  Bert,  you  '11  fall ! " 

"  I  Ve  got  lots  of  nails,"  said  Bert.  "  They  're 
not  all  crooked.  We  pick  'em  up  to  trade  with 
the  fellows." 

3 


34  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  We  've  asked  Santa  Clans  to,"  said  the  little 
girl,  timidly.  "  We  've  written  him  a  letter,  and 
sent  it  on  the  wind,  and  we  Ve  told  him  up  the 
chimney ;  only  our  chimney  is  a  funnel,  and  may 
not  reach  him.  But  of  course  he  could  throw 
nails  down  a  funnel,  you  know." 

"And  is  that  all  you  want  Santa  Glaus  to 
bring  you  ? "  asked  Marcia. 

"  Yes,  'm ;  I  —  I  guess  so,"  said  the  little  girl, 
looking  up  with  wondering  eyes. 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear ! "  cried  Marcia.  "  Just  hear 
that,  Hester,  and  look  at  her !  And  here  am  I 
wanting  a  silver  dog-collar,  and  a  chatelaine,  and 
a  sealing-wax  set,  and  a  bonbonniere,  and  —  " 

"You'd  better  talk  about  being  unselfish, 
Marcia,"  cried  Rosy,  whose  conscience  was  in 
trouble,  "  when  there  would  n't  be  anything  left 
for  the  rest  of  us  if  you  had  all  those.  And 
Rafe  's  been  longing  for  a  set  of '  British  Ballads ' 
and  you  know  I  want  a  davenport  for  my  room, 
and  papa's  half  promised  me  a  gold  chain  and 
locket." 

"Then  I  shall  have  a  gold  chain  and  locket 
too,"  exclaimed  Agnes.  "  I  don't  know  but  I  'd 


A   CHEISTMAS   THAT    WAS    CHEISTMAS.          35 

prefer  all  the  Abbott  books.  And  Helen  wants 
a  purse,  with  a  big  gold  piece  and  some  postage- 
stamps  in  it ;  and  Mabel  expects  a  French  doll 
with  real  hair,  that  shuts  its  eyes,  and  —  " 

"  And  I  've  put  in  for  a  bicycle,  and  Bert  for  a 
new  pair  of  skates,"  exclaimed  John,  whirling 
himself  about.  "  And  Bert  and  I  want  —  " 

"  Oh,  hold  on ! "  said  their  father.  "  You  want 
the  earth ! " 

And  then  he  turned  the  horses  and  drove 
back  so  fast  against  the  wind  that  it  was  all 
they  could  do  to  hold  their  breath  and  not  waste 
any  more  till  they  left  the  little  strangers  at 
the  opening  of  the  woods  on  the  shore,  where 
their  home  was  to  be  seen,  and  stopped  at  last 
at  the  door  of  their  own  large  old-fashioned 
house,  with  the  red  roof  gleaming  among  the 
bare  elm  boughs.  And  there,  with  Helen  and 
Mabel  and  Georgie  and  Tot  to  welcome  them  in 
the  blazing  firelight  of  the  hall,  and  the  mother 
and  Miss  Persis  hurrying  downstairs  from  Eafe, 
and  Charlotte  Eisley  running  across  the  street  to 
make  another,  it  seemed  to  Hester  that  there  was 
no  such  place  in  all  the  world  as  Marcia's  home. 


36  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

It  was  the  next  morning,  when  Miss  Persis 
went  out  to  walk  with  Marcia  and  Hester, 
Charlotte  Eisley  coming  along,  that  the  twins, 
Helen  and  Agnes,  seeing  Eosy  put  on  her  cloak 
to  follow,  insisted  upon  making  part  of  the  com- 
pany too,  picking  up  John  with  his  sled  as  they 
went,  and  following  the  older  ones,  who  were 
making  their  way  to  the  little  house  in  the  wood 
by  the  lake-side. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Miss  Persis,  "  this  will  never  do. 
I  can't  go  to  see  people  in  want  with  an  army 
with  banners." 

"  Oh,  we  '11  stay  outside,"  said  John. 

"  John,  you  are  really  the  last  one  I  want." 

"  I  shall  go,  just  the  same,"  said  John.  "  And 
I  dare  say  you  11  be  tired  enough  to  be  hauled 
home  on  my  sled,  Miss  Persis." 

So  they  went  along  through  the  wintry  wood, 
sliding  and  running  and  singing,  stopping  to 
listen  to  the  echo,  and  to  gather  the  lovely 
feathery  ghosts  of  grasses  and  the  long  stems  of 
seed-vessels  appearing  through  the  snow,  to  look 
after  a  darting  squirrel  and  a  fleet  rabbit;  and 
then  they  came  to  the  forlorn  little  house  with  a 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.         37 

funnel  out  of  one  window,  and  an  old  hat  and 
some  rags  in  the  broken  panes  of  another,  and 
Miss  Persis  and  Marcia  and  Hester  went  in, 
leaving  the  rest  outside. 

There  was  a  great  contrast  between  the  gay 
little  people  tying  hemlock  boughs  to  their  feet 
for  snow-shoes,  trying  to  walk,  falling  backward, 
shouting  and  screaming  with  laughter,  and  the 
scene  within  the  house,  where  the  father  of  the 
children  taken  into  the  sleigh  the  evening  before 
lay  powerless  to  lift  his  head,  and  the  mother, 
with  helpless  knees,  unable  to  walk  or  stand, 
had  to  hitch  herself  about  as  she  could  to  do  the 
work;  where  the  wood  to  be  burned  was  only 
such  as  Mamy  and  Ben  could  bring  in  green 
from  the  forest,  where  they  were  now  gone  for 
some;  where  all  the  food  was  some  meal,  the 
milk  of  the  cow  that  little  Ben  took  care  of,  and 
the  occasional  egg  of  a  half -starved  Brahma  hen ; 
where  the  father  had  no  medicine,  the  children 
no  clothes,  the  mother  no  hope. 

Miss  Persis  gave  the  mother  the  little  coat  of 
Bert's  that  she  had  brought,  and  Helen's  out- 
grown cloak,  and  the  beef  and  bread ;  and  Mar- 


38  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

cia  felt  dreadfully  embarrassed  when  the  poor 
woman  cried,  and  murmured  her  thanks,  and 
said  she  never  thought  it  would  come  to  this, 
and  it  had  seemed  as  if  they  were  forsaken, 
and  if  she  only  had  the  use  of  her  feet  to 
get  about  and  do  for  the  father  it  wouldn't 
be  so  bad,  and  that  the  children  were  all  the 
life  she  had,  and  it  broke  her  heart  to  look  at 
them  ! 

"She's  such  a  pretty  woman,"  said  Marcia, 
when  safely  outside  again,  "  and  how  that  sick 
man's  eyes  did  follow  her!" 

"  Don't  you  suppose  there  is  anything  to 
be  done  for  him  ? "  asked  Charlotte  Eisley, 
doubtfully. 

"  Probably,  if  he  were  taken  to  a  hospital,"  said 
Miss  Persis.  "Not  at  home.  I  couldn't  have 
supposed  there  was  such  poverty  in  our  part  of 
the  world.  They  are  so  hidden  in  this  wood. 
And  those  children  growing  up  like  barbarians  ; 
no  church  —  " 

"  No  school,  no  books,  no  toys,"  said  Charlotte. 

"I  wish  you  would  n't  talk  about  it  any  more," 
said  Marcia,  scuffing  the  snow  before  her.  "I 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT  WAS   CHRISTMAS.          39 

wish  we  had  n't  seen  it.  And  just  at  Christmas- 
time too." 

Sitting  late  that  afternoon  by  Eafe's  lounge, 
where  the  lame  back  still  held  him  prisoner,  in 
the  room  whose  wide  windows  always  let  in  so 
much  of  the  sky,  Hester  found  herself  confiding 
to  him  her  thoughts  of  the  morning.  "  It  was 
dreadful,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that ! "  cried  Marcia.  "  Look 
here  at  the  sun  in  those  distant  windows,  just  a 
nest  of  rubies." 

"  I  don't  see,"  Hester  went  on  regardlessly, 
"  why  poor  people  live  here,  where  they  have  to 
suffer  such  things.  My  gentle  South  Sea  sav- 
ages, who  never  know  what  hunger  and  cold  are, 
are  a  great  deal  happier." 

"  Only  they  are  savages,"  said  Kaf e ;  "  and 
these  people  are  where  their  children  can  learn  all 
there  is  to  know,  and  be  all  there  is  to  be.  Only 
you  'd  rather  be  a  savage  than  a  sponge,  and  a 
poor  person  where  there  are  books  and  schools 
than  a  savage." 

"  I  did  n't  think  of  that,"  said  Hester.  "  But 
why  are  people  poor?" 


40  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Rafe  laughed.  "There  you've  touched  the 
sore  spot  of  the  world.  But  we  must  do  some- 
thing for  these  people." 

"  It  made  me  feel  as  if  I  had  no  right  to  my 
fur  cloak,"  said  Hester. 

"  Oh,  come ! "  said  Marcia. 

"  And  certainly,"  persisted  Hester,  "  as  if  I 
ought  to  be  sewing  for  them  instead  of  on  this 
embroidery  for  the  dear  baby,  who  would  be  just 
as  happy  in  something  else." 

"  Your  wonderful  embroidery,  Hester  !  I  do 
believe  you  're  crying,  Hester,"  from  Marcia. 

"It  —  it  makes  you  —  to  think  of  those  chil- 
dren who  have  nothing,  and  would  be  so  happy 
with  a  few  nails,"  exclaimed  Hester. 

"  I  say,"  said  Eafe,  presently,  "  there 's  a  lot  of 
stuff  wasted  at  Christmas." 

"  Oh,  I  knew  it  —  I  knew  it  was  coming !  I 
know  just  what  you  are  going  to  say." 

"  For  my  part,  I  think  if  just  the  money  that 
is  wasted  by  the  Meyer  family  in  buying  useless 
things  that  nobody  wants,"  said  Kafe,  "or  at  any 
rate  can  do  without,  like  your  silver  dog-collar, 
Marcia,  your  bon-bons,  my  '  British  Ballads,'  that 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.         41 

I  really  can  have  from  the  public  library,  Eosy's 
davenport,  if  that  is  what  she 's  to  have,  and 
Agnes's  gold  chain  and  locket,  —  why,  if  the 
money  for  all  that  raff  of  things  was  saved  and 
given  to  those  What  's-their-names,  this  Stuart 
family,  it  would  send  the  father  to  a  hospital, 
where  he  could  be  cured,  and  made  fit  to  go  to 
work  again,  and  get  a  doctor  and  a  wheel-chair 
for  the  mother,  and  clothes  and  food  for  the 
children  enough  to  keep  them  comfortably  the 
whole  year." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Hester,  "  then  —  then  it  would 
be  wicked  —  "  She  stopped,  for  she  was  on  the 
point  of  censuring  the  possible  doings  of  the 
Meyer  family. 

"Oh,  you  needn't  stop!"  said  Marcia.  "It 
will  be  wicked  for  me  to  have  my  gold-handled 
umbrella,  my  chatelaine,  my  what-and-all ;  for 
Agnes  to  have  her  locket ;  for  mamma  to  have 
the  jewelry  papa  always  gives  her  at  Christmas." 

"  Wicked  is  too  much  to  say,"  said  Eafe,  fall- 
ing back  on  his  cushions.  "But  it  would  be 
lovely  to  have  the  money  to  give  these  Stuarts, 
would  n't  it  ?  A  few  nails  !  " 


42  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  And  it 's  wicked  for  you  to  be  sewing  on  that 
embroidery  in  this  light,  Hester  Stanley,"  said 
Marcia,  giving  Hester's  work  a  twitch.  "We 
ought  to  have  the  lamps  in,  and  be  making  a 
linsey-woolsey  for  that  Mamy  —  Oh,  dear !  I 
wish  we  'd  never  gone  sleighing  up  the  lake." 

But  Hester  gathered  up  the  work.  "  Miss 
Marks  gave  me  twenty-five  dollars  of  my  allow- 
ance," said  she,  "  to  buy  my  Christmas  gifts  with, 
because  I  have  spent  so  little  of  it.  But  I  know, 
Marcia,  that  you  and  Eafe  and  Charlotte  would 
rather  I  gave  it  to  those  poor  children  than  to 
you.  But  I  shall  finish  this  for  my  baby,  be- 
cause —  because  —  oh,  because  I  want  to  ! " 
cried  Hester,  as  if  she  must  have  one  piece  of 
wickedness  for  her  share. 

And  then  Miss  Persis  came  and  began  to  play 
to  Rafe  the  music  that  she  always  played  for 
him  at  twilight,  —  the  dreamy  music  that  carried 
his  thoughts  up  to  the  stars  as  he  saw  them 
coming  out  through  the  wide  window,  that  made 
his  room  a  chamber  of  peace,  and  that  always 
quieted  dissensions  among  the  dear  stormy 
Meyer  children. 


A   CHKISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHKISTMAS.          43 

"  Hester  has  twenty-five  dollars  to  spend  on 
Christmas  presents,"  said  Marcia  next  day  at  the 
breakfast-table.  "  Get  down,  Beauty  ! "  —  to  her 
black  cat,  —  "I  just  gave  you  some ;  it 's  my 
turn  now.  Yes ;  and  I  Ve  contrived  to  save  five, 
and  so  has  Eafe.  How  much  have  you,  Kosy  ? 
And  you,  Helen?" 

"  I  don't  know  if  I  care  to  say,"  said  Rosy. 

"  Oh,  don't  you !  I  might  have  known.  Well, 
Helen  ? " 

"I  —  I  have  twenty-five  cents,"  said  Helen, 
bashfully. 

"Dear,  dear,  you're  almost  as  badly  off  as 
Mamy  Stuart.  And  you,  Agnes  ? " 

"  Oh,  a  whole  boxful  of  nickels.  I  don't  know 
how  many.  And  Bert  would  have  had  more, 
but  Mabel  and  Georgie  tipped  them  down  the 
crack  of  the  garret  floor." 

"We  can  get  them  again.  I  don't  suppose 
you  Ve  saved  anything,  John  ? " 

"  Not  a  penny,"  said  John. 

"  Well,  instead  of  parcelling  hers  out  in  little 
driblets  among  us  all,  and  getting  things  nobody 
really  wants,  —  things  not  of  much  use,  you 


44  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

know,  —  Hester  is  going  to  do  a  world  of  good 
with  her  money,  and  give  it  all  in  one  lump  to 
those  Stuart  people." 

"I  didn't  say  quite  that,  Marcia,"  said  Hester, 
gently.  "I  said  I  knew  you  and  Kafe  and 
Charlotte  Eisley  would  rather  I  did.  But  I 
don't  know  about  Eosy  and  Agnes  and  Helen 
and  John,  and  the  rest.  I  don't  know  as  I 
would  have  the  right,  quite,"  she  said,  turning 
her  timid  fawn's  eyes  on  them  each  in  turn,  "  to 
give  away  their  presents  unless  they  said  so." 

"  Of  course  they  11  say  so." 

Mr.  Meyer  glanced  over  the  edge  of  his  paper 
at  his  wife,  who  was  making  Tot's  cambric  tea, 
and  she  glanced  back  again,  but  neither  of  them 
spoke. 

"  I  say  so,"  said  John. 

"  I  —  I  don't  know,"  said  Rosy. 

"If  you  aren't —  " 

"Oh,  you  can  say  it,  Marcia  Meyer,"  cried 
Rosy.  "But  it  isn't  anything  of  the  sort.  It's 
because  I  thought  I'd  like  to  have  a  present 
from  Hester  herself.  And  I  was  going  to  give 
her  one." 


A  CHEISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          45 

"  Give  and  take !  You  are  one  of  the  people 
who  deceive  themselves  with  an  idea  of  their 
own  virtue  all  the  way  through  life." 

"  Marcia,"  said  her  mother,  softly. 

'•Well,  I  suppose  the  Stuart  children  want 
clothes  and  food  and  schooling  as  much  as  you 
want  a  sentimental  gift  from  Hester.  Oh,  how 
the  girls  at  Waterways  will  rattle  you  when  you 
get  there ! " 

"No,  indeed,  Eosy,"  said  Hester.  "I  shall 
be  one  of  the  big  girls  then,  and  I  '11  stand  by 
you  just  as  Marcia  stands  by  me  now." 

"  Well,"  said  Eosy,  "  of  course  I  '11  do  what  you 
want  me  to,  Hester.  But  —  but  you'll  let  us 
give  you  our  presents,  won't  you  ? " 

"If  — if  you  don't  mind,"  said  Hester,  "I 
think  —  Don't  you  think  —  it  would  be  better 
to  give  them  to  Mamy  and  Ben  and  that  baby 
there  ?  It  —  Why,  it  would  be  queer  for  me  to 
take  your  presents,  and  —  and  prevent  you  from 
having  mine." 

"  Well  —  "  began  Marcia. 

"  You  're  always  saying  '  well,'  Marcia,"  said 
Eosy,  her  irritation  still  uppermost. 


46  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"And  you're  always  spilling  things.  You 
never  will  learn  how  to  eat  an  egg.  Besides, 
all's  well  that  ends  well.  Well,  now,  what  do 
you  say  ?  Give  me  my  napkin-ring,  Totty 
dearest.  Blessed  pinkums  !  Speak  now,  or  else 
forever  hold  your  peace.  Shall  Hester,  instead  of 
giving  you  Christmas  presents,  give  the  money 
to  the  suffering  Stuart  children  ?  And  shall  you, 
instead  of  giving  her  any,  do  the  same  ?  Those 
contrary-minded  will  say  no." 

There  was  a  gurgling  and  stammering  of  ex- 
planation and  exclamation  to  be  heard  all  round 
the  table,  and  stopping  suddenly,  but  somehow 
none  of  it  made  no. 

"And  that  is  only  the  beginning  of  it,"  said 
Marcia,  folding  her  napkin.  "  I  am  not  going  to 
receive  any  Christmas  presents  this  year,  either. 
Papa  and  mamma  were  to  give  me  a  silver  dog- 
collar,  or  a  chatelaine  chain,  or  something,  and, 
instead,  I  am  going  to  ask  them  to  let  me  have 
the  money  to  go  with  Hester's.  A  little  girl 
from  the  South  Sea  Islands  sha'n't  have  all  the 
generosity  there  is  in  this  house." 

"  Oh,  Marcia ! "   from  Hester. 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHKISTMAS.          47 

"  And  so  I  sha'n't  make  any  Christmas 
presents  to  you,  either.  At  least  — " 

"  Oh,  Marcia,"  exclaimed  Eosy,  in  bitterness  of 
spirit,  her  face  scarlet,  "you're  just  going  to 
spoil  Christmas ! " 

"Spoil  Christmas  by  making  suffering  people 
happy?" 

"  We  have  a  right  to  our  Christmas  as  well  as 
they,"  spluttered  Kosy,  choking  over  her  milk. 

"Anybody  would  suppose  presents  made  the 
whole  of  Christmas,  and  there  wasn't  any 
church  all  dressed  in  green  to  enjoy,  sweet  as  a 
pine  wood,  and  the  choir  boys  to  sing,  there 
was  n't  any  dinner  and  pudding  in  blue  fire,  and 
games  and  —  For  my  part  I  thought  Christmas 
meant  being  glad  Christ  came,  and  we  ought  to 
keep  it  so  as  to  make  it  seem  like  a  day  in 
heaven." 

"  We  're  living  here,"  persisted  Eosy. 

"  Well,  if  you  can't  get  up  the  spirit  to  have 
Christmas  without  having  all  your  miserliness 
gratified,  you  don't  deserve  Christmas!  That's 
all  I  have  to  say." 

"I'm  glad  of  it.     I  hope  you '11  stay  at  Water- 


48  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

ways  next  Christmas.  You  know  I  must  do 
whatever  you  do,  and  let  papa  give  them  the 
price  of  my  gold  locket." 

"You  can  wear  a  little  ticket  instead  of  the 
locket,  saying,  '  I  gave  my  locket  to  the  poor.' " 

"  You  are  going  too  far,  are  n't  you,  my  dear  ? " 
said  her  father,  looking  up  from  his  paper  again 
a  moment. 

"I  suppose  so,  papa  dear.  But  I  believe  in 
heroic  treatment  as  much  as  Miss  Bwown  does." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  loved  me,  Marcia ! "  sobbed 
Eosy. 

"  So  I  do,  so  I  do,  you  poor  dear ! "  cried 
Marcia,  upsetting  her  chair,  and  running  round 
to  throw  her  arms  about  Rosy,  who  hid  her  face 
in  Marcia's  neck  then,  creating  all  the  confu- 
sion proper  to  the  Meyer  meals,  with  the  table- 
cloth half  dragged  off  and  a  water  carafe  broken. 
"  And  you  '11  be  the  happiest  in  the  end  if  you  do 
just  as  Hester  and  I  do.  I  know  you !" 

Suddenly,  as  Marcia  returned  to  her  seat,  the 
tears  were  spurting  out  of  Helen's  eyes,  and 
there  was  a  sort  of  stifled  wail  from  Agnes. 
"  We  've  all  got  to  do  it  if  Marcia  and  John  and 


A    CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          49 

Rosy  do.  And  I  wanted  my  purse  with  the  gold 
piece." 

"  Well,  well,  well,"  said  Marcia,  with  disgust. 
"  No  one  is  obliged  to  do  it.  Besides,  we  did  n't 
mean  the  little  ones,  anyway ;  only  us  big  ones." 

"  I  guess  I  'm  big  enough  for  it  if  John  is ! " 
cried  Bert. 

"Oh,  Marcia,  we're  big  enough  too,"  cried 
Mabel  and  Georgie.  "Don't  leave  us  out  —  oh, 
please  don't,  Marcia ! " 

"  And  besides,"  continued  Marcia,  "  it  is  only 
putting  ourselves  alongside  of  papa  and  mamma 
and  Miss  Persis,  who  make  Christmases  for 
others  and  get  their  fun  out  of  that.  Oh,  when 
you  see  the  Stuart  children  so  surprised  and  glad 
and  everything!  Only  think,  nothing  but 
Indian-meal  mush  to  eat,  and  not  enough  of 
that.  Perhaps  they  never  tasted  a  butter-scotch 
in  their  lives.  Why,  we  're  all  going  to  do  it,  I 
do  declare!"  she  cried.  "Who  would  have 
believed  it?  Aren't  we  a  lovely  family,  after 
all,  we  Meyers  ? "  And  she  upset  her  chair 
again,  and  ran  round  to  her  father  this  time,  and 
hugged  him  with  all  her  might. 

4 


50  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  But,"  said  her  father,  extricating  himself  from 
her  embrace  where  no  one  could  have  told  which 
was  his  beard  or  her  hair, "  your  mother  and  I  don't 
seem  to  have  been  consulted  in  this  business. 
How  do  you  know  I  want  my  child  to  go  with- 
out such  a  necessary  article  as  a  silver  dog- 
collar,  or  a  gold  chain  and  locket,  or  a  seal  ring 
—  and  what  was  all  the  rest  ?  —  in  order  that  I 
may  give  the  worth  of  them  to  Mr.  Stuart's 
children  ? " 

"  Oh  no,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Meyer,  from  her 
end  of  the  table  and  the  muffler  in  which  that 
always  neuralgic  face  of  hers  was  enveloped. 

"But,  Marcia,"  he  said  in  an  undertone,  "I 
think  we  must  except  the  little  ones,  Mabel  and 
Georgie  and  —  " 

"  I  don't  believe  they  'd  like  it,  papa,  when  the 
time  came,  and  they  found  they  hadn't  done 
just  as  we  had." 

"  Tot  ? "  said  her  father. 

"  Oh,  papa  ! "  cried  Marcia,  with  another  hug ; 
"  you  are  the  best,  the  dearest,  the  kindest  —  I 
don't  wonder  mamma  worships  you." 

"  My  dear,  if  you  worship  me,"  said  Mr.  Meyer, 


A   CHEISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          51 

raising  his  voice,  "  I  will  thank  you  for  a  little 
more  incense.  Marcia,  take  my  coffee-cup  to 
your  mother,  please."  And  then  the  mother  had 
to  be  hugged  half  to  death. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  delighted ! "  cried  Marcia,  hurry- 
ing back  to  the  table  with  a  pencil  and  an  old 
letter  envelope.  "Hester,  what  a  little  trump 
you  are !  You  began  all  this." 

"No;  Eafe  did,  Marcia." 

"  Now  I  'm  going  to  see  how  much  we  have 
for  the  Stuarts.  In  the  first  place,  Hester's 
twenty-five  dollars.  Twenty-five.  My  dog-col- 
lar, thirty." 

"  Oh,  I  could  have  got  that  for  twenty,"  said 
her  father. 

"Not  the  best.  And  you  give  the  best,  you 
and  motherkins.  Rosy's  davenport,  eighteen ; 
the  gold  locket  for  Agnes,  too,  eighteen  more  ; 
and  Helen's  purse  and  eagle,  fifteen.  Then 
Eafe's  '  British  Ballads,'  twenty-five ;  Bert's  new 
skates  —  the  old  ones  will  do,  Bert  —  five.  Were 
you  going  to  give  John  the  bicycle  really,  papa  ? 
Yes  ?  Oh,  how  splendid !  That  is  eighty  dol- 
lars ;  he  'd  break  a  cheaper  one  all  to  pieces,  and 


52  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

it  would  break  him  all  to  pieces  too.  Oh,  you 
never  will  be  content  to  go  without  that  bicycle 
in  the  world,  John  ! " 

"  Yes,  I  will  too." 

"  It  means  for  always,  John,  you  know.  Not 
this  year  or  next  —  " 

"  You  count  that  bicyle  in,  Marcia  Meyer.  It's 
more  than  any  of  you.  Next  year  '11  take  care 
of  itself.  And  Laddy  '11  lend  me  his  sometimes, 
anyway." 

"Well.  And  books  and  toys  and  things  for 
the  rest  —  fifteen  more.  Two  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  dollars  !  And  my  five,  and  your  ten,  Eosy  — 
I  guess  it 's  about  ten  —  and  the  box  of  nickels. 
Papa,  does  Christmas  always  cost  you  a  couple 
of  hundred  dollars?" 

"  And  more,  too,"  said  Mr.  Meyer,  with  a  groan 
that  made  Hester  look  up  and  laugh.  "  It 's  a 
regular  '  stand  and  deliver  ! '  There 's  my  gift 
to  your  mother,  you  know,  and  what  it  costs  me 
for  your  mother's  gift  to  me,"  he  said,  laughing. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  your  gift  to  mamma  would 
be  about  a  hundred  dollars.  Or  is  that  too 
low  ? " 


A   CHRISTMAS    THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          53 

"  Oh,  by  no  means  ! "  said  the  father.  "  You 
might  say  seventy-five." 

"  I  '11  say  a  hundred.  And  I  suppose  she  was 
going  to  give  you  a  dressing-gown  that  would 
cost  fifty.  A  hundred  and  fifty.  And  now,  Miss 
Persis  ? " 

"Oh,  I  throw  my  fortunes  into  the  general 
lot,"  said  Miss  Persis. 

"  That 's  hardly  fair,  Miss  Persis,"  said  Mr. 
Meyer. 

"  It  was  going  to  be  a  black  silk,  Miss  Persis," 
murmured  the  mother. 

A  little  flush  mounted  Miss  Persis's  pale  cheek. 
"  I  '11  make  the  old  one  answer,"  she  said  pres- 
ently. "I  should  feel  condemned  to  be  having 
a  new  black  silk  with  the  suffering  I  saw  yester- 
day unrelieved." 

"  Miss  Persis,  then,"  resumed  Marcia.  "  She 's 
not  going  to  let  us  get  ahead  of  her.  How  much 
does  a  black  silk  cost,  mamma  ?  Five  hundred 
dollars  ? " 

"Marcia!     Fifty!" 

"Well,  now,  let's  see.  Five  and  twenty-one 
—  twenty-six  ;  naught 's  naught ;  carry  three. 
Four  hundred  and  thirty-one  dollars,  papa  I " 


54  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  Throw  off  the  odd  figures,  Marcia,"  pleaded 
her  father,  his  eyes  sparkling. 

"  Oh  no,  indeed !  After  we  've  had  a  little 
conference  as  to  what  we  were  going  to  spend 
for  each  other,  and  Miss  Persis  and  Charlotte 
and  all,  I  rather  think  we  shall  make  it  up 
to  five  hundred.  If  it  had  only  been  fifty,  it 
would  have  helped  some.  Hester  shall  be  the 
treasurer." 

"  Oh  no,"  whispered  Hester ;  "  Miss  Persis, 
please." 

"  And  let 's  see,"  went  on  Marcia,  irrepres- 
sibly,  "that  will  give  the  Stuart  father  six 
months  in  the  hospital  where  they  cure  such 
things  at  ten  dollars  a  week  ;  and  a  wheel-chair 
for  the  mother  to  get  round  in,  at  twenty- 
eight— " 

"  And  a  sled  for  the  boy,  Marcia,"  cried  John. 
"That  boy  shall  have  his  sled.  Sliding  on  an 
old  board  ! " 

"  Yes.  A  thick  new  cloak  and  arctic  boots 
for  Mamy." 

"  And  a  barrel  of  flour,  and  some  beans,  and 
pease,  and  pork,  and  bacon,  and  —  " 


A   CHEISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          55 

"  And  tea  and  sugar,"  said  Mrs.  Meyer. 

*And  'Robinson  Crusoe,'"  said  Bert. 

K  And  the  '  Girls'  Own  Fairy  Book.'  " 

*  And  a  doll." 

"  And,  if  you  please,"  said  Hester,  "  I  think 
they  would  like  a  chimney.  Does  it  cost  much 
to  build  a  chimney  ?  Only  fifteen  or  twenty 
dollars  there  ?  Oh,  ever  since  I  have  been  in 
the  North  it  seems  to  me  that  everything  is  in 
a  chimney." 

"  Oh,  they  won't  know  themselves,"  said  Mar- 
cia.  "  And  just  think  how  lovely  to  give  them 
such  comfort  and  happiness,  and  to  cure  their 
father!  Don't  you  begin  to  feel  happier  now, 
Georgie  ? " 

"  But  it 's  going  to  be  a  very  dry  Christmas," 
said  John.  And  then  they  adjourned  upstairs, 
where  Rafe  was  now  ready  to  receive  them  and 
hear  all  about  it. 

But  if  it  were  going  to  be  a  dry  Christmas,  it 
was  a  most  jolly  ten  days  beforehand,  with  the 
shopping  and  running  and  talking,  in  which  last 
every  one  had  unrestricted  part,  with  the  meas- 
uring and  planning  and  cutting,  with  new 


56  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

clothes  bought,  old  clothes  made  over,  with 
something  for  each  individual  to  do  in  the  matter 
of  the  little  Stuarts.  And  Mamma  Meyer  had 
so  much  help  that,  after  all,  she  found  time  to 
make  a  new  dressing-gown  from  the  pattern  of 
the  old  one  and  part  of  her  old  velvet  shawl,  for 
they  all  felt  the  indulgent  father  must  have  that, 
at  any  rate.  And  when  the  proper  Christmas 
snow-storm  arrived  and  cleared  away,  and  the 
Eisleys  sent  for  them  one  and  all  to  come  across 
the  street  for  a  merrymaking  on  Christmas  night 
itself,  and  the  green  was  up,  and  the  stars  came 
out  frostily,  and  the  church  bells  began  to  ring, 
and  every  one  was  running  every  way,  even  Eafe 
singing,  "There  was  racing  and  chasing  on 
Cannobie  Lee,"  they  all  said,  upon  comparing 
notes,  that  they  felt  as  if  this  was  going  to  be 
the  first  Christmas  they  had  ever  had.  And  at 
last,  John  and  Kosy  having  been  chosen  to  go 
—  Hester  having  refused  because  she  thought  it 
might  trouble  the  Stuarts  to  see  so  many  —  the 
great  business  of  the  hour  was  despatched  with 
their  father  and  Miss  Persis  in  the  sleigh.  And 
when  they  came  back,  and  told  of  the  sick 


A   CHRISTMAS   THAT   WAS   CHRISTMAS.          57 

father's  bursting  out  crying,  and  of  the  mother's 
wheeling  her  new  chair  across  the  room,  and 
throwing  her  arms  over  him  as  he  lay  there  help- 
less, and  the  children's  astonished  silence  at  first, 
and  then  their  yells  of  delight,  and  the  embraces 
they  gave  Kosy  and  John,  who  backed  away 
from  them  red  and  grinning,  and  how  glad  they 
felt  driving  home  in  the  light  of  a  big  yellow 
moon  that  came  rolling  up  purposely  to  light  the 
way,  —  when  they  heard  it  all,  Marcia  and 
Hester  just  threw  their  arms  about  each  other 
and  cried  too. 

And  when  little  Tot  woke  up  later  that  even- 
ing, and  found  something  lying  in  the  bed  with 
her  —  something  soft  and  cool  and  sweet-smell- 
ing —  and  rubbed  her  eyes,  and  scrambled  out  to 
turn  up  the  night-lamp,  and  saw  a  wonderful 
wax  doll,  all  smiles  and  rosiness,  enough  to 
warm  any  little  mother-heart  alive,  she  made  a 
noise  that  called  all  the  family  about  her.  "I 
don't  want  to  be  left  out,"  she  was  roaring,  as 
she  stood  in  her  little  long  night-dress  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  "  I  'm  plenty  big  enough.  I 
yove  my  old  dolly  best.  I  yant  the  Stuart  baby 


58  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

to  have  it."  And  nothing  pacified  her  till 
Michael  put  on  his  coat,  and  took  the  lovely  wax 
lady  in  her  silken  dress,  and  went  and  tied  it  on 
the  door-handle  of  the  little  house  in  the  woods. 
And  Hester  and  Marcia,  watching  with  Eafe  for 
him  to  come  back  in  the  light  of  the  great 
Christmas  moon  across  the  snow,  declared  to 
each  other  that  as  long  as  they  lived  they  never 
expected  to  be  so  useful  again,  or  so  happy  as 
they  were  that  Christmas  Eve! 


JULE'S  GARDEN, 


JULE'S  GARDEN. 

A  LL  the  girls  at  St.  Mark's  had  their  little 
•**•  plots  of  garden,  if  they  chose,  and  the 
Trustees  were  given  a  vase  of  flowers  from  the 
best  one  every  year ;  and  in  return  the  Trustees 
gave  the  successful  young  gardener  rare  shrubs 
and  seeds  and  potted  plants.  Once  Hester 
Stanley  was  the  successful  one;  for  her  father 
had  sent  her  the  bulbs  of  some  wonderful 
orchids  from  the  South  Sea  Islands.  She  shared 
them  with  Marcia,  who  let  them  die ;  and  then 
she  shared  again  her  half  with  Jule,  who  was 
extravagantly  fond  of  flowers ;  and  every  year 
after  that  the  vase  of  flowers  was  picked  from 
Jule  Spencer's  garden.  For  Jule  knew  a  good 
deal  about  flowers  and  their  care  before  the  min- 
ister urged  her  father  to  send  her  to  St.  Mark's, 
—  although  the  minister  did  not  call  it  St. 


62  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Mark's,  but  the  Girls'  School  at  Waterways. 
And  indeed  it  was  Jule's  garden  at  home  that 
indirectly  sent  her  to  Waterways. 

She  had  been  standing  once  on  the  river-bank 
beside  Jack,  who  was  fishing,  or  thought  he  was, 
when  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  — 

"  Oh,  there  he  is  !  Look,  —  across  the  river  ! 
He's  set  down  his  camera.  Oh,  he's  going  to 
take  the  barn!  It's  the  minister!  Oh,  and 
with  so  many  places,  to  take  that,  the  very  ugli- 
est spot  on  the  whole  point!"  And  she  began 
to  twist  her  curls,  —  always  a  sign  of  distress 
with  little  Jule,  the  boys  said. 

"  It 's  the  gobbler  he 's  taking,"  said  Jack. 

"  I  don't  care.  It  brings  in  the  barn,  too,  and 
the  hen-yard  —  " 

"The  gobbler  knows  he's  taking  him,"  said 
Jack. 

"  Oh,  yes,  he 's  a  beauty,  standing  there  on  the 
bulkhead  for  the  hens  to  admire  him.  But  all 
the  same  —  " 

"  All  the  same,  little  Jule,  you  feel  the  disgrace 
of  having  that  hen-yard  handed  down  to  poster- 
ity," said  Mr.  Jack,  pulling  in  his  line  with 


JULE'S  GARDEN.  63 

nothing  on  it.  There  never  was  anything  on  it ; 
but  that  made  no  difference  in  Jack's  liking  to 
lie  along  the  rock  and  drop  his  line  in  and  pull 
it  out  again. 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  said  Jule,  "  you  might  make  that 
place  decent !  You  might  drive  out  those  hens 
and  fix  their  run  somewhere  else  — " 

"  I  might  go  up  in  a  balloon,"  said  Jack,  jerk- 
ing his  sinker.  "  There,  you  run  along,  puss,  and 
let  the  poor  hens  alone.  Take  life  easy  till 
school  begins."  And  he  leaned  along  the  rock  as 
if  he  really  would  be  disappointed  if  a  fish  bit. 
The  spring  sun  shone  pleasantly,  the  birds  darted 
across  the  blue  sky,  the  wind  was  sweet  with  the 
smell  of  new  furrows  and  leafy  things ;  softly 
the  sound  of  a  hurdy-gurdy  came  from  the  dis- 
tance, and  Jack  was  too  comfortable  to  bother 
himself  about  hens  and  hen-yards.  So  little  Jule 
went  her  way,  feeling  that  if  it  were  any  one  but 
Jack  she  could  be  cross. 

She  had  so  often  thought  it  was  such  a  pity 
that  spot  should  be  given  up  to  hens  !  And  she 
had  a  superlative  dislike  of  hens ;  she  felt  there 
must  be  an  untouchable  roughness  about  their 


64  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

feathers,  the  thought  of  which  set  her  teeth  on 
edge ;  and,  moreover,  she  was  mortally  afraid  of 
them.  An  old  mother-hen  had  once  flown  in  her 
face  when  she  was  only  picking  up  a  chicken, 
and  had  finished  for  her  the  whole  hen-family. 
How  lovely  that  bank  would  be  with  terraces 
and  rock-work  and  geraniums  and  beds  of  pop- 
pies !  She  had  spoken  to  Tom  about  it,  but  he 
had  pooh-poohed ;  and  her  mother  said  it  would 
be  too  much  trouble;  and  her  father  said  the 
men  were  busy,  and  why  did  n't  she  make  her 
own  gardens  ?  One  day,  indeed,  a  year  ago,  she 
had  opened  the  gate  in  the  lath-fence,  and  had 
flirted  her  handkerchief  and  shooed,  her  heart 
beating  furiously,  and  had  reached  in  with  her 
trowel,  digging  a  hole  into  which  she  had 
dropped  a  root  of  violets,  pressed  it  down,  poured 
some  water  over  it,  shooing  all  the  time,  and  had 
shut  the  gate  and  run.  The  hens  ran,  too,  and 
in  ten  minutes  there  wasn't  a  shred  of  that 
violet  left. 

However,  there  were  more  serious  things  in 
life  than  gardens.  There  was  the  bureau-cloth 
she  was  embroidering  for  her  mother,  the  socks 


JULE'S  GAEDEN.  65 

she  was  knitting,  and  her  lessons  to  be  learned. 
There  was  the  loaf  of  bread  to  be  taken  to  Mrs. 
Nourse's,  where  poor  Danny  Nourse,  who  had 
lost  his  left  hand,  was  bemoaning  the  hard  fate 
that  had  taken  it  off  and  would  oblige  him  to 
wear  a  hook,  when  so  little  money  would  buy  an 
artificial  hand  for  him  who  must  earn  his  own 
living  by  the  work  of  his  hands.  "  Father  has  n't 
any  money  or  he  would  give  it  to  Danny.  And 
there  is  n't  any  way  in  which  I  can  earn  a  nickel. 
Oh,"  sighed  Jule,  "  it  is  dreadful  to  be  so  useless." 

Poor  Danny  really  needed  his  hand,  for  his  head 
was  of  little  use  to  him.  Jule,  in  a  time  of  enthu- 
siasm, had  offered  to  teach  him  to  read,  and  had 
accomplished  her  work  only  after  long  devotion. 

"  B-a-g,"  Danny  would  spell. 

"  Well,"  Jule  would  say,  "  what  is  it  ? " 

"  B-a-g,"  Danny  would  reiterate. 

"  Well,  what  does  that  spell  ?  Don't  you  know, 
Danny  ?  Why,  what  do  you  carry  things  in  ? " 

"  Oh !  Pocket ! "  cried  Danny,  quite  delighted 
with  himself. 

A  year  of  effort  on  Jule's  part,  and,  indeed,  on 
Danny's  too,  and  the  accident  to  Danny's  hand 


66  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

put  an  end  to  lessons.  It  had  been  a  distressing 
time  to  Jule,  too,  when  the  operation  took  place. 
She  had  gone  down  with  some  broth  her  mother 
sent,  and  found  the  doctor  just  ready  to  remove 
the  mutilated  hand,  but  the  one  who  was  to  give 
the  ether  not  arrived,  and  Mrs.  Nourse  in  the 
other  room  and  quite  incapable. 

"  I  '11  not  be  afther  waitin'  for  the  likes  o'  him, 
docthor  dear,"  said  Danny.  "  Go  ahead  wid  ye  ! " 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,  my  lad," 
said  the  doctor. 

"I  do,  thin.  I'll  not  holler,"  turning  his 
fevered  eyes  to  the  kitchen  door,  "  for  the  fear  o' 
troublin'  her.  I  'd  not  be  havin'  her  hear  me." 

"  No,  no,  my  boy." 

"I 'd  be  glad  it  wor  over,"  pleaded  Danny.  "  I 
could  bear  the  hurt  for  the  little  time.  Oh,  my 
poor  hand  that  was  a  help  to  me,  it 's  losin'  ye  I 
am  !  There 's  the  little  Miss  Jule,  the  craythur  ! 
If  she  '11  just  sit  by  an'  look  at  me,  with  the  swate 
smile  of  her,  an'  maybe  hould  the  other  hand, 
I'll  not  stir  a  scrap,  docthor  dear.  I'd  be 
ashamed,  ye  know.  An'  it 's  herself  wud  put  the 
comfort  intil  me.  Oh,  Miss  July  darlint,  —  forby 


JULE'S  GARDEN.  67 

the  pain  I  'd  be  spakin'  more  respectful  like,  — 
it 's  meself  is  as  glad  to  see  ye  as  the  doves  of 
Cashel.  If  ye  '11  hold  by  me  hond,  I  won't  lave  ye 
know  it 's  hurtin'  me  at  all,  it  is ! "  And  Jule  felt 
her  heart  sink  and  shake ;  but  she  sat  down  and 
took  his  well  hand  in  both  of  hers,  and  then 
the  other  doctor  bustled  in,  and  Jule  wanted 
to  shut  her  eyes,  but  did  n't,  because  she  knew 
that  Danny  wished  her  to  smile  at  him.  "  Be- 
gorra ! "  said  Danny,  as  the  doctor  adjusted  the 
towel  round  the  ether  sponge  and  came  to  place  it 
over  his  mouth.  "  It 's  me  roight  hond  '11  be  left 
till  me  now  ! "  She  felt  as  if  she  were  assisting  at 
Danny's  execution.  But  the  doctor's  kind  words 
to  him  reassured  her,  and  she  was  able  to  look 
at  the  brave  boy,  and  smile,  and  now  and  then 
press  the  hand  she  held  till  at  length  he  slept. 
And  at  that  she  turned  her  head  away  and  closed 
her  own  eyes,  and  began  to  say  all  the  prayers 
she  knew.  Then,  as  she  felt  that  the  doctors  were 
not  giving  Danny  a  particle  of  pain,  the  once  hate- 
ful smell  of  the  ether  reminded  her  of  heaps  of 
oranges,  and  afterwards,  when  she  sometimes  saw 
brides,  and  smelled  their  garlands  of  orange- 


68  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

flowers,  instead  of  festivity  and  joy  only,  it  made 
her  think  of  the  gracious  strength  of  ether,  that 
brought  almost  the  greatest  blessing  of  God  to 
man,  —  surcease  from  pain. 

So,  it  may  be  seen,  Jule  felt  an  interest  in 
Danny's  welfare,  and  did  all  in  her  power  for 
him,  and  sighed  to  think,  do  what  she  would, 
she  could  not  raise  money  for  an  artificial  hand 
that  might  help  him  to  a  livelihood. 

*  Well,"  thought  Jule,  as  she  left  Jack  and 
his  fishing,  that  spring  morning,  "  if  I  can't  get 
any  one  to  see  to  that  place,  I  can't."  But  she 
paused  when  she  reached  the  fence  of  the  hen- 
yard,  and  looked  through  wistfully.  There  was 
not  a  hen  in  the  place  \  They  had  all  gone  up 
their  queer  slatted  walk  into  the  upper  yard, 
where  Tom  was  scattering  corn.  What  an  in- 
spiration came  to  Jule  that  minute,  what  cour- 
age! Her  heart  beat  in  her  throat;  but  she 
opened  the  little  lath  gate,  stepped  over  the  sill, 
ran  like  the  wind  across  the  hen-yard  and  up 
the  rocks,  and  drew  a  loose  board  over  the  little 
door  made  for  the  hens  to  go  down  into  their  run. 

"  Now  you  're  there,  you  stay  there,"  she  said, 


JULE'S   GARDEN.  69 

for  the  large  upper  run  was  really  quite  enough 
for  them.  A  young  rooster  crowed  insultingly 
at  that,  and  another  took  up  the  tale,  and  Jule 
scampered  as  if  a  whole  flight  of  cockerels  were 
after  her. 

But  presently,  summoning  up  courage,  she 
took  a  survey  of  the  premises,  —  a  dingle  between 
two  bluffs  sloping  from  the  river  to  the  barn  at 
a  height  above ;  at  the  base  of  the  barn  a  stone 
pig-pen,  whose  wall  was  six  feet  high.  The 
barnyard  heap  was  no  longer  thrown  down  there, 
but  a  bulkhead  had  once  been  built  below  to 
keep  the  compost  from  washing  into  the  river. 
"  Woodbine  —  and  there  's  plenty  in  the  woods 
—  could  grow  over  the  back  of  that  barn," 
thought  Jule,  "and  the  Boston  ivy,  if  I  could 
get  some,  would  cover  the  pig-pen  like  a  mat. 
Oh,  would  n't  it  be  lovely ! "  And  then  she 
looked  in  despair  at  the  earth  the  hens  had 
scratched  bare,  the  heaps  of  stones,  the  impossible 
confusion  of  boards  and  cans  and  bottles.  "  I  '11 
try,"  she  exclaimed  presently. 

"  Oh,  Danny,  would  you  mind  coming  out  to 
the  Falls  woods  ?  "  she  asked,  a  little  later. 


70  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  Dade,  thin,  I  wud,"  said  Danny,  "  an'  be  glad 
in  me  sowl,  so  I  wud."  And  they  came  home 
in  an  hour  with  baskets  of  wild  woodbine  roots 
and  sweet-briers ;  and  Danny's  one  hand  and 
Jule's  two  disposed  them  at  the  barn  corners, 
and  by  the  big  bowlders  at  the  dingle-side. 

"  Now,"  said  Jule,  having  watered  them  thor- 
oughly, "  the  ladies  in  the  brick  house  down  town 
may  give  us  some  slips  of  their  Boston  ivy,  and 
they  '11  make  a  beautiful  green  wall  of  the  pig- 
pen —  in  time,  you  know,  Danny." 

Then  Jule  went  in  and  knit  at  her  sock. 
"  Mother  dear,"  said  she,  after  knitting  several 
rounds,  "  can't  I  have  the  bulbs  the  dahlias  in 
the  front  yard  made  last  year  ?  " 

"  The  bulbs  ? "  said  her  mother,  pinching  her 
pastry.  "  What  for  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  "  said  Jule. 

"  Mis'  Nourse  won't  care  about  a  garden ;  but 
you  can  have  'em,  I  guess." 

And  the  next  day  the  Boston  ivy  and  the 
dahlia-bulbs  were  in  place,  and  Jule  and  Danny 
had  fastened  the  board  against  the  hens,  and  had 
nailed  pickets  at  the  top  of  the  fence  there,  two 


JULE'S   GARDEN.  71 

of  the  Virginia-creepers  being  set  to  climb  over 
the  fence  eventually  and  hide  it  altogether. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Jule,  "  I  am  going  to  make  the 
wilderness  blossom  like  a  rose  ! "  And  then  the 
two  little  people  began  to  toil  over  the  road  from 
the  ploughed  fields  with  baskets  of  earth  that 
they  tumbled  into  the  crannies  and  along  the 
slope.  And  they  laboriously  brought  up  stones 
from  the  shore  day  after  day,  and  slowly  made 
a  rude  wall  for  a  terrace  below  the  pig-pen,  fill- 
ing the  space  with  earth. 

"  They  do  be  sayin',"  remarked  Danny,  "  that 
the  min  out  there  to  Washington,  or  wheriver, 
has  the  givin'  o'  flower-sades  be  the  peck,  good 
loock  till  'em,  an'  ye  can  have  thim  for  the  askin'. 
Sorra  a  bit  uv  me  knows." 

That  night  Jule  found  who  was  her  member 
of  Congress,  and  the  reply  to  her  modest  request 
came,  to  the  wonderment  of  the  family,  as  a 
package  addressed  to  Miss  Julia  Spencer,  and 
containing,  she  fancied,  the  seeds  of  half  the 
flowers  that  blow.  "  Oh,  here  are  larkspurs  ! " 
she  cried.  "  You  know  how  tall  and  blue  they 
are.  And  stocks,  and  phlox,  and  feverfew,  and 


72  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

marigolds,  and  candytuft,  oh,  and  nasturtiums ! 
Sweet  alyssum,  too,  and  balsam,  and  salvia,  and 
cosmos,  and  morning-glories,  oh,  and  hollyhocks  ! 
How  perfectly  delightful ! " 

"  That 's  what  your  country  does  for  you,"  said 
Jack. 

"  It 's  a  dear  country  ! "  cried  Jule.  And  the 
frost  being  gone,  it  took  only  a  day  to  sow  the 
terrace-bed  in  plots.  Then  they  picked  up  and 
raked  and  spaded  in  comfort  on  the  incline 
towards  the  bulkhead.  "  The  great  beds  of  pop- 
pies there  will  be  so  splendid  from  the  river ! " 
cried  Jule. 

"  The  tides  '11  be  drowndin'  thim  out  intirely, 
so  they  will,  Miss  Jule,"  said  Danny. 

"  But  it  won't  hurt  them." 

"  They  '11  be  af ther  flowerin'  in  the  islands  of 
the  dape  say." 

"  I'll  risk  it,"  said  Jule.    "  I  '11  drop  the  seeds." 

"  An'  the  next  high  tide  '11  be  doin'  the  rest," 
said  Danny ;  and  it  did.  There  was  not  a  poppy- 
seed  left. 

Then  they  sowed  nasturtiums  by  the  fence 
where  she  used  to  have  the  horrible  vision  of  the 


JULE'S  GARDEN.  73 

hens.  "  You  hold  the  string  for  their  climbing, 
Danny,  till  I  tie  it.  I  '11  put  in  the  stick.  Now 
another.  I  tell  you,  it  tires  your  back !  But 
when  it 's  a  gold  and  scarlet  curtain  here,  won't 
it  be  glorious  ?  Oh !  can't  you  see  it,  splendid 
with  dew,  and  the  sun  shining  on  it  ? " 

After  this  there  were  morning-glories  sowed 
on  the  other  upper  side,  till  the  woodbine  should 
be  grown  next  year.  And  what  joy  it  was  to 
watch  those  woodbines  for  their  first  pout !  Jule 
gave  them  water  morning  and  night.  "  Oh, 
they  're  alive ! "  she  shouted ;  and  she  sat  down  be- 
fore the  first  buds  and  warbled  little  songs  of 

joy- 

Jule  had  some  geraniums  of  her  own  in  the 
kitchen.  She  had  early  cut  off  slips ;  and  now 
she  set  them  in  the  crannies  of  that  ugly  eastern 
corner.  And  then  school  began.  But  the 
moment  school  was  out,  and  she  had  done  all 
her  mother  wished,  she  was  down  in  her  retreat, 
wondering  if  this  were  a  sprouting  seed  or  that 
were  a  weed,  watering  and  pottering  and  learning 
the  ways  of  nature  out  of  nature's  book. 

The  loss  of  the  poppies  was  sad.    There  had  to 


74  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

be  another  wall  to  hold  a  terrace  beyond  any  rise 
of  the  tide.  With  the  only  silver  piece  she  had, 
she  hired  old  Jerry  to  dig  a  trench ;  and  when  he 
saw  her  lugging  up  the  stones,  he  worked  over- 
time every  day  to  help  her.  And  although  it  took 
them  the  rest  of  the  summer,  they  laid  that  wall, 
and  plastered  it  from  a  half  barrel  of  cement 
they  found  in  the  cellar ;  but  it  was  not  till  the 
fall  ploughing  that  they  could  fill  it  with  earth. 
And  if  Jule  knit  Jerry  all  the  socks  he  wore  that 
winter,  it  was  not  in  the  way  of  payment,  but 
because  she  loved  to  do  it. 

But  it  had  been  fatiguing  to  fetch  the  water 
from  the  river  in  the  evenings  after  the  hot  days, 
and  nobody  in  the  house  took  much  interest. 
Her  father  had  consented  to  the  banishment  of 
the  hens,  but  her  mother  said  it  was  a  waste  of 
time ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  every  one  had  something 
for  her  to  do  when  her  flowers  needed  her,  for  the 
leakage  from  barn  and  pig-pen  made  the  soil  so 
rich  that  the  weeds  grew  faster  than  the  flowers. 

Danny  was  picking  potato-bugs  in  the  field 
when  Jule  was  taken  with  a  cold ;  and  when  she 
was  about  again  and  went  down,  the  garden  was 


JULE'S  GAKDEN.  75 

a  wilderness  of  white-weed  and  wild  carrot.  "  I 
must  have  some  flowering  bushes  that  the  weeds 
can't  hurt,"  said  Jule,  as  she  took  up  her  gera- 
niums, by  and  by,  and  gathered  her  seeds,  still 
rejoicing  in  her  zinnias  and  cosmos.  She  had 
quantities  of  seeds ;  the  family  could  not  imagine 
what  she  was  doing  when  they  saw  her  putting 
them  into  papers,  but  supposed  it  was  all  in  the 
way  of  her  foolishness  about  the  garden.  They 
did  not  know  that  the  store-keeper  had  got  her 
some  bulbs,  which  she  had  put  in  the  ground  in 
September  for  early  growth,  and  was  going  to 
take  his  pay  in  flower-seeds,  or  they  might  have 
objected  to  such  independent  proceedings  on  her 
part. 

But  when  the  next  spring  opened,  the  snow 
was  not  gone  before  the  little  gardener  was  down 
in  her  preserve,  pulling  off  old  stalks  and  pre- 
paring for  the  new  campaign.  Then  Danny  and 
r.;he  went  off  to  a  pasture  where  once  a  house  had 
stood  with  damask-roses  in  its  yard ;  and  they 
came  back  with  lilac-rods  that  went  into  the 
ground  up  the  slope  behind  the  geraniums,  and 
with  no  end  of  the  roses.  And  no  young  prin- 


76  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

cess  ever  took  more  enjoyment  in  the  glint  of 
her  rubies  than  Jule  did  when  those  rose-stems 
strung  themselves  with  tiny  red  leaf-buds. 

Jule  had  now  saved  another  dollar,  and  had 
gone  down  to  a  florist's.  "I  want  so  many 
things,"  she  sighed.  "  And  I  have  only  a  dollar. 
Do  you  suppose  I  could  get  a  couple  of  trumpet- 
vines,  and  a  honeysuckle,  and  a  Seven  Sisters 
rose,  and  a  hydrangea,  and  a  scarlet  japonica,  and 
a  flowering  almond,  and  a  spice-plant  —  " 

"For  a  dollar?"  asked  the  florist,  smiling. 
"  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  you  would  n't 
mind  if  I  throw  in  a  Jacque-rose  and  a  chry- 
santhemum ? " 

"  Oh,"  cried  Jule,  with  sparkling  eyes,  "  do  you 
really  mean  so?"  And  the  treasures  she  bore 
off  were  almost  more  than  she  could  carry. 

There  were  disappointments  about  the  little 
garden  this  year;  the  flies  hurt  this,  and  the 
slugs  that,  and  the  drought  and  the  rain  the 
others,  and  the  watering  was  more  than  she 
could  do  without  Danny,  and  Danny  used  to 
wail  that  he  could  n't  be  in  two  places  "  to  onst, 
so  he  couldn't."  Still,  there  were  moments  of 


JULE'S  GARDEN.  77 

satisfaction  when  the  pleasure-boats  went  up  the 
river,  or  when  she  saw  the  minister  shooting  by 
in  his  boat  and  looking  at  her  roses. 

But  the  third  summer  Jule's  undertaking  was 
a  success.  "  Wife,"  said  her  father,  "  our  Jule  's 
got  quite  a  garden  down  at  the  old  hen-run. 
I  '11  rig  a  spout  from  the  spring  in  the  barn,  so 
she  won't  have  to  be  dragging  water." 

"  Sis,"  said  Tom,  "  I  'm  going  to  do  a  day's 
work  in  your  garden.  What  shall  it  be  ? " 

"  Jule,"  called  Jack,  "I've  got  a  syringa-bush 
from  the  Squire's  for  your  garden."  So  true  it 
is  that  nothing  succeeds  like  success. 

But  these  were  scattered  offerings.  Usually 
Jule,  and  Danny,  when  he  could,  plodded  on 
alone,  and  had  their  reward  of  pure  joy  in 
beauty. 

It  was  a  day  in  the  depth  of  summer  that 
Jule  went  shopping  down  town  with  her  mother. 
Mrs.  Spencer  was  hard  to  please ;  and  while  this 
and  that  were  handed  down,  Jule  amused  herself 
with  the  advertisements  posted  on  the  shed ; 
"  Take  Pill's  Powders,"  half  covered  by  a  circus 
picture,  on  which  again  were  pasted  smaller 


78  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

notices  of  the  "  Sale  of  a  Farm,"  the  loss  of  a 
White  Cat  with  a  black  tip  to  its  tail,  the  Village 
Improvement  Society's  reward  of  fifty  dollars, 
the  finding  of  a  Sum  of  Money,  an  Auctioneer's 
Sale.  Jule  was  still  spelling  them  out  when 
her  mother  in  some  excitement  left  the  shop- 
keeper, who  had  been  talking  to  her  in  an  ani- 
mated way.  "  I  want  you  to  run  right  home, 
Jule,"  she  said,  "  and  go  down  to  your  garden  — 
I  'm  glad  you  put  on  your  white  print  —  I  sup- 
pose your  hair 's  all  a  snarl,"  lifting  the  hat  to 
smooth  the  yellow  curls.  "Make  haste  —  some 
one  's  coming  there." 

"  But  I  'd  rather  wait  for  you,"  said  Jule. 

"  Never  mind  me.  I  '11  be  there  pretty  soon." 
And  according  to  her  custom  Jule  wonderingly 
did  as  she  was  told.  "  That  old  hen-run  !  "  she 
heard  her  mother  murmuring. 

Jule  reached  the  garden  and  was  down  on  the 
bulkhead  just  in  time  to  see  a  flock  of  sails 
swelling  up  the  stream,  and  circling  a  little  way 
above  like  swans,  while  a  fleet  of  row-boats 
followed,  trimmed  out  with  flags.  There  were 
girls  singing  in  the  boats,  and  some  one  in  the 


JULE'S  GAKDEN.  79 

last  boat  was  blowing  a  cornet.  It  seemed  to 
Jule  as  lovely  as  a  crowd  of  water-nymphs  could 
be.  Looking  back  to  see  if  her  mother  was  com- 
ing, she  saw  her  father  and  Jack  and  Tom  hurry- 
ing down  the  bank  where  Jack  used  to  drop  his 
line;  and  while  she  was  looking  back,  a  boat 
rowed  up,  the  rowers  grasping  the  bulkhead, 
while  some  one  stepped  out  —  the  minister! 

The  minister  turned  directly  and  addressed 
the  people  in  the  boats,  who  stopped  their  music 
at  once.  "  My  friends,"  Jule  heard  him  saying, 
"you  have  all  seen  the  photograph  I  chanced 
to  take  of  this  place  as  it  was  three  years  ago. 
You  all  see  it  now  —  the  building  a  tower  of 
verdure,  the  walls  turned  to  banks  of  living 
green,  the  fences  transformed  to  curtains  of  blos- 
soming splendor.  Where  all  was  shapeless  con- 
fusion, here  are  terraces  that  in  spring  blushed 
red  with  roses,  and  where  now  the  lilies  stand 
in  ranks  of  white  and  gold.  The  spot  that  was 
a  waste  haunted  by  the  owl  and  the  dragon  - 
that  is,  by  the  gobbler  and  the  hen  —  is  turned 
to  a  blaze  of  glory.  So,  in  accordance  with  your 
decree,  I  now  deliver  the  reward  of  fifty  dollars 


80  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

for  the  greatest  improvement  within  our  borders 
to  Miss  Julia  Spencer ! "  And  then,  before  he 
stepped  into  his  boat,  and  the  oars  dipped,  and 
the  sails  of  the  others  ran  up,  and  the  whole 
shining  flotilla  moved  away,  the  minister  had 
handed  to  the  astonished  child,  who  stood  wind- 
ing her  curls  about  her  fingers,  a  purse  through 
whose  meshes  sparkled  five  golden  eagles.  And 
then  a  shout  went  up  from  all  the  boats,  and 
the  cornet  began  to  play,  and  the  girls  sang, 
"  Come  into  the  garden,  Maud,"  till  the  music 
was  nothing  but  an  enchanting  echo  in  the 
distance;  and  Jule,  in  her  bewildered  amaze- 
ment, came  near  dropping  the  purse  into  the 
river. 

"  Well,  that 's  what  I  call  worth  while,"  cried 
Jack,  when  Jule  had  left  oft  crying  her  tears  of 
surprise.  "  What  you  going  to  do  with  it,  Sis  ?  " 

And  then  Jule  drew  herself  up  with  pride  and 
gladness.  "  I  am  going  to  get  Danny  his  arti- 
ficial hand." 

"  And  it  will  be  the  best  thing  that  ever  grew 
in  a  garden  ! "  cried  her  father. 


APRIL  SHOWERS. 


APRIL  SHOWERS. 

T)OOR  Miss  Risley  !  She  did  not,  the  least  in 
•*•  the  world,  know  what  to  do  with  Charlotte. 
"  If  I  can't  govern  a  child  without  whipping  her," 
she  used  to  say,  "  I  won't  try  to  govern  her  at 
all."  But  the  mischief  was  that  she  did  try  to 
govern  Charlotte,  and  Charlotte  was  ungovern- 
able. 

There  was  not  a  demurer  puss  alive  than  this 
little  girl  when  she  walked  to  church  beside  her 
aunt  on  a  Sunday,  with  her  bright  curls  tied 
away  in  a  blue  ribbon  that  returned  the  blue  of 
her  eyes,  although  her  face,  if  you  looked  closely, 
was  all  ready  to  break  out  in  smiles. 

You  never  would  think  it  was  her  voice  that 
presently  would  be  piping  up  the  tune  of  some 
popular  ballad  to  the  sacred  words  the  choir 
sung  —  simply  to  see  how  they  would  go. 


84  HESTER  STANLEY'*:  FRIENDS- 

You  never  would  think  it  was  she  wbo,  aiw» 
a  critical  examination  of  Miss  Marvin's  new 
wrap  during  the  sermon,  wrote  in  large  script  on 
a  blank  leaf  of  the  hymnal  the  awful  words 
"Bargain  Counter,"  and  watched  her  chance  to 
pin  it  —  no,  I  cannot  tell  it.  Only  Charlotte 
had  to  beg  Miss  Marvin's  pardon  in  dust  and 
ashes,  and  her  aunt's  pardon,  and  the  minister's, 
and  say  penitential  psalms,  and  go  without 
sugar,  and  save  her  pennies,  too,  till  she  had 
enough  to  buy  a  new  hymnal. 

It  was  in  Miss  Eisley's  system  of  rewards  and 
punishments  that  Charlotte  was  sent  to  spend 
the  next  Sunday  and  meditate  alone  in  the 
garret ;  and  that  when  Miss  Eisley  came  home 
from  church  she  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a 
large  board,  which  Charlotte  could  never  have 
suspended  under  the  window  if  John  Meyer 
had  not  come  over  to  help  her,  bearing  in  black 
paint  and  huge  letters  the  words  "  Children  Not 
Wantid  Hear,"  the  truth  of  which  legend  made 
its  offence  all  the  greater. 

But  Charlotte  could  not  seem  to  help  it; 
mischief  was  her  natural  element.  She  did  not 


APRIL   SHOWERS.  85 

mean  to  be  naughty;  she  wished  to  be  good. 
She  loved  her  aunt,  for  that  was  all  she  had  of 
her  own  to  love.  She  shed  showers  of  tears 
while  the  wickedness  of  her  capers  was  explained 
to  her.  She  would  kiss  Miss  Risley,  with 
repeated  hugs,  and  hide  her  mop  of  yellow  curls 
in  her  neck,  and  promise  everything  —  and  per- 
form nothing,  the  joys  of  disobedience,  of  idling, 
of  startling,  being  greater  than  the  love. 

And  there  were  the  Meyers  across  the  street ; 
and  Miss  Eisley  used  to  say  the  Meyer  children 
were  enough  to  demoralize  a  whole  neighborhood 
—  the  poor  dears. 

She  did  n't  say  "  the  poor  dears." 

She  tried  to  forbid  them  the  house  except  on 
state  occasions,  when  they  were  invited  to  a 
solemn  banquet  of  hot  biscuit  and  jam,  to  which 
they  went  eagerly  every  time,  forgetting  the 
misery  of  the  last  time,  and  from  which  they 
poured  home  whooping  with  the  escape  of  vitality 
that  they  could  not  carry  at  the  high  pressure  of 
good  behavior  another  minute. 

The  Meyer  children,  of  course,  were  the 
greatest  comfort  to  Charlotte.  She  used  to 


86  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

admire  Rafe  from  an  awful  distance,  he  was  so 
fine  and  lordly,  and  always  did  what  was  right, 
and  looked  like  St.  John  and  all  the  prophets,  as 
Marcia  said,  having  the  prophets  and  apostles 
confused  in  her  mind.  But  as  for  John  Meyer, 
and  Marcia,  too,  when  she  was  at  home  on  her 
vacations,  Charlotte  always  found  them  a  very 
present  help  in  time  of  naughtiness,  in  which 
they  were  hand  in  glove,  and  usually  made  more 
noise  about  it  than  the  incarnation  of  the  Spirit 
of  Mischief  in  the  Rheingold  does. 

Mr.  Meyer  had  been  talking  of  moving  south 
for  a  long  time.  "  Oh,  why  does  n't  he  go  ? " 
moaned  Miss  Bisley,  although  she  knew  she 
should  miss  the  older  ones  of  the  family  sadly. 
And  then  her  heart  smote  her  for  Charlotte's 
loneliness  if  he  did;  and  yet,  she  said,  why 
should  she  suffer  everything,  and  have  her  head 
splitting  with  the  racket,  and  her  nerves  kept 
a-twitter  with  fear  of  damage  to  her  portraits 
and  her  precious  polished  old  furniture  and  heir- 
looms, in  order  to  have  Charlotte  amused  ? 

"  I  will  be  good !  Oh,  auntie,  I  will  be  good ! " 
Charlotte  would  exclaim,  her  heart  full  of  peni- 


APRIL   SHOWERS.  87 

tence  and  her  eyes  fountains  of  tears.  And  then 
there  came  Marcia  with  the  sun  shining  in  her 
red  hair,  going  birdnesting  with  John,  and  all 
the  little  Meyers  tearing  after  them,  and  what 
could  Charlotte  do  but  follow,  and  come  home 
dishevelled  and  drenched  and  torn,  having  broken 
up  the  fun  half-way  by  a  spasm  of  repentance  ? 

"It  is  more  than  I  can  do  to  keep  you  in 
clothes,"  cried  her  aunt.  "  Every  gown  you  have 
is  torn,  and  this  is  sopping ! "  And  she  straight- 
way rummaged  from  one  of  the  old  chests  in 
the  garret  a  little  short  gown  and  cap  and  petti- 
coats of  a  remote  ancestress,  and  clad  Charlotte 
in  them  for  the  mortification  of  the  flesh,  while 
she  and  Peggy  darned  and  patched  the  torn 
ginghams  of  to-day. 

But  poor  Miss  Eisley  failed  of  her  purpose. 
Charlotte  was  immensely  delighted  with  herself 
in  her  antique  dress ;  and  she  watched  and  called 
across  the  road,  and  exhibited  herself  to  her 
friends.  "Don't  I  look  just  like  great-great- 
grandma?"  she  cried,  framed  by  the  casement. 
And  it  was  the  picture  she  made  in  the  window 
that  gave  John  the  idea. 


88  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Her  aunt  had  sent  her  over  to  ask  the  Meyer 
children  to  tea.  They  were  going  to  have  hot 
muffins  and  preserved  plums  and  chocolate, 
which  she  announced  to  the  invited  guests  at 
once.  It  was  in  the  Easter  vacation,  and  Marcia 
was  at  home,  and  stooping  over  a  little  fire  on 
the  schoolroom  hearth,  scrambling  eggs  that  she 
had  rifled  from  one  of  the  haymows. 

"And  I  got  caught  in  the  shower  and  wet 
through  for  my  pains,"  said  Marcia.  "  John,  you 
let  those  eggs  alone !  I  'm  going  to  make  a  nogg 
for  mamma  with  those.  Oh,  it 's  a  great  deal  nicer 
at  St.  Mark's  than  here.  There  goes  the  baby !  " 
Tot  was  the  Meyer  baby  then.  "  I  wish  I  was 
back  at  school  and  you  were  with  me,  Charlotte." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  I  do,"  said  Marcia. 

"  It 's  pretty  good  fun  here  —  when  auntie  lets 
me  come  over.  And  I  run  away  when  she 
doesn't,  you  know,"  said  Charlotte,  with  frank- 
ness. 

"It's  better  fun  at  school  with  the  pillow- 
fights  in  the  dormitory, —  when  it  isn't  Miss 
Brown's  week,  —  and  roasting  chestnuts  on  hair- 


APRIL   SHOWERS.  89 

pins  in  the  lamp,  and  telling  ghost  stories  in  the 
dark.  And  there's  Mr.  Marquand's  school 
across  the  bay,  and  Joe  and  the  boys  —  Oh,  I 
wish  you  knew  Bella  —  she's  just  perfectly 
lovely  !  As  for  Miss  Brown  —  well,  Miss  Marks 
is  our  angel  of  light,  anyway,  and  I  suppose 
she'll  make  an  angel  of  me  sometime." 

"  She  has  a  lot  to  do,  then,"  said  Eafe.  Eafe 
before  that  accident  was  one  boy,  and  Rafe  after- 
ward was  another.  "You  can't  make  bricks 
without  straw." 

"  I  've  heard  of  a  man  of  straw  and  a  rope  of 
straw,  but  I  never  heard  of  a  straw  angel ! " 

"  We  should,  if  you  were  one." 

"  Dear  me,  how  much  you  know  about  angels ! " 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  do  in  this  family,"  said 
Rafe.  "  It  is  n't  a  little  heaven  below." 

"Let's  make  it  one!"  cried  Marcia.  "Chil- 
dren, attention !  Charlotte,  you  take  one  of  the 
chair-legs  and  I  '11  take  the  other  —  " 

"  I  dare  you  ! "  said  Rafe. 

"  Helen,  you  take  a  rung,  and  John  the  other. 
Bert,  you're  too  little  to  be  much  good,  but 
remember  you're  a  manl  You'll  do  for  the 


90  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

front  on  one  side,  and  Rosy  and  Agnes  the  other. 
You  dare  us  now  ?  Quick !  All  together  ! " 
And  before  Eafe,  who  in  his  dignity  had  scorned 
to  move,  could  resist  the  attack,  the  chair  was 
lifted  like  a  palanquin. 

"Put  me  down!     Put  me  down ! "  cried  Rafe. 

"  Will  you  be  good  ? "  said  Marcia.  "  Will  you 
go  on  lording  it  over  us  ?  Will  you  call  me  a 
straw  angel?  Will  you  divide  those  gum 
imperials  ? " 

"  You  put  me  down ! "  cried  Rafe.  And  as  the 
little  ones  were  weakening,  the  chair  was  low- 
ered. And  then  the  moment  the  feet  were  on 
the  floor,  some  one,  were  it  Marcia,  or  Char- 
lotte, or  John,  or  Helen,  no  one  knew  which, 
gave  a  push,  a  jerk,  and  the  chair  went  one  way 
and  Rafe  another,  and  Rafe  did  not  get  up  again, 
but  lay  a  white  heap  on  the  floor. 

As  quick  as  saying,  Charlotte  whipped  through 
the  door,  across  the  green  and  the  road,  to  her 
own  yard,  and  then  up  to  the  garret,  hiding  her- 
self under  the  rafters.  "  Oh,  I  've  killed  him  ! 
I  've  killed  him ! "  she  was  crying.  "  What  shall 
I  do?  Oh,  what  shall  I  do?" 


APRIL   SHOWERS.  91 

But  while  she  was  bewailing  herself  Marcia's 
voice  came  up  under  the  window,  and  she  ran 
to  look  out,  her  face  streaming  with  tears,  but 
at  Marcia's  words  breaking  into  sunshine  and 
smiles. 

"It's  all  right!"  said  Marcia.  "He  came 
round  all  right.  It  isn't  anything.  He  says 
it  isn't.  It  hit  him  in  the  back.  We're 
awfully  rough.  But  we'll  all  be  over  to 

I/Gel  ~ 

"  Oh  !  I  am  so  glad ! "  cried  Charlotte.  "  I  'm 
so  glad !  Come  up  here  now,  Marcia.  Auntie 's 
gone  out,  and  we  can  rummage.  Here  'a  lots  of 
things  ! " 

And  all  her  grief  forgotten,  they  were  pulling 
brocade  gowns  and  lace  capes  and  velvet  coats, 
faded  to  a  tarnished  splendor,  from  their  chests 
and  trying  them  on  and  parading  the  dusky  garret 
like  old  ghosts  come  again,  when  John  ran  up 
and  found  them. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  said  Charlotte. 
"  1 11  go  over  in  the  high  pasture  before  tea  and 
get  some  frogs'  eggs  for  Eafe's  aquarium.  You 
come,  too,  John." 


92  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

« I  can't,"  said  John.  "  They  sent  me  for  the 
doctor." 

"  Then  you  go  right  along ! "  said  Marcia. 

"  Well,  I  can  go  alone,"  said  Charlotte.  "  And 
perhaps  I  can  scoop  up  a  newt  —  he  '11  like  the 
little  old  man  in  the  water." 

"  He 's  got  one,"  said  Marcia. 

"Then  I'll  get  him  a  sod  of  violets  for  his 
garden." 

"But  your  aunt  said  you  mustn't  cross  the 
pasture  again  — 

"I  don't  care.  Besides,  she  won't  mind  as 
long  as  it 's  for  Eafe." 

"  She  'd  call  it  in  the  interest  of  science." 

"Oh,  Marcia!  How  much  you  know!  Do 
you  suppose  I  ever  could  know  as  much  if  I 
went  to  school  at  St.  Mark's?" 

"Oh,  you  might,"  said  Marcia,  with  a  queer 
look,  "  if  you  worked  as  hard  as  I  do." 

"  I  'm  so  tired  of  saying  my  lessons  to  auntie ! 
Those  pillow-fights  must  be  —  Oh,  and  do  you 
really  —  " 

"  Oh,  we  really  do ! "  said  Marcia.  "  And  John 
is  going  to  Mr.  Marquand's  in  a  year  or  two  —  " 


APKIL   SHOWERS.  93 

"  I  don't  suppose  auntie  '11  ever  let  me  —  " 

"  We  '11  make  her  let  you ! "  cried  John. 

"John,  if  you  were  sent  for  the  doctor,  it's 
because  the  doctor 's  wanted,"  exclaimed  Marcia. 
"  I  shall  have  to  go  and  see ! "  And  then  they  all 
scampered  downstairs  and  off  in  their  different 
directions. 

It  had  been  a  bright  April  day  with  a  south 
wind,  and  many  a  flashing  bluebird's  wing.  The 
saxifrage  was  shivering  in  the  cranny  of  every 
rock,  and  the  grass  was  as  green  as  velvet,  and 
here  and  there  a  clump  of  violets  had  bloomed ; 
the  sky  was  full  of  little  clouds  blushing  toward 
sunset,  and  the  birds  were  darting,  and  the  frogs 
were  piping,  and  Charlotte  danced  along  feeling 
all  April  in  her  veins. 

There  was  a  pool  where  the  cattle  drank  and 
the  swallows  and  blue  dragon-flies  dipped  and 
circled  in  the  later  summer-time,  and  Charlotte, 
going  her  gay  way  to  the  further  brook,  forgot  it 
till  she  saw  it,  and  then  she  stopped  so  short 
that  she  stumbled,  and,  trying  to  recover  herself, 
fell  head  over  heels  into  its  stagnant,  shallow 
water. 


94  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

And  when  she  had  scrambled  out  of  the  mire 
she  found  something  ailed  her  ankle,  —  it  was 
broken,  she  thought,  or  sprained,  or  strained ; 
she  could  not  say  which,  and  it  hurt  dreadfully, 
and  she  could  not  walk,  and  she  did  not  see  how 
she  was  ever  going  to  get  home.  "  Oh ! "  she 
groaned,  "  why  did  I  ever  come  ?  Why  did  I 
help  pull  that  chair  out?  I  wish  there  never 
had  been  a  chair  in  the  world  !  Oh ! " 

All  unconscious  of  Charlotte's  absence,  the 
guests  invited  to  the  festival  of  muffins  and  plum 
preserves  had  been  received  by  Miss  Risley  her- 
self, they  imagining  Charlotte  was  in  bed  for 
misdemeanor,  she  wondering  where  on  earth 
Charlotte  was,  but  understanding  they  were  to 
be  taken  care  of  while  the  doctor  was  attending 
to  Rafe,  whose  back  was  hurt  more  seriously 
than  had  been  supposed.  The  thought  of  Rafe 
interfered  with  their  enjoyment  of  the  delicious 
sugary  tartness  of  their  feast  not  a  little,  until 
Miss  Risley,  who  had  kept  going  to  window  and 
door,  finally  sent  them  home,  and  started  out 
with  the  servants  to  find  her  delinquent. 

"I    must    have    done    something    terrible," 


APKIL   SHOWERS.  95 

groaned  poor  Miss  Kisley,  "that  I  should  be 
afflicted  with  this  child!  I  never  know  what 
it  is  to  have  one  moment's  peace!" 

Meanwhile  Charlotte  was  lying  out  in  the 
pasture,  as  wet  as  you  please,  and  very  angry  and 
discouraged  ;  for  she  had  crept  only  a  little  way 
before  the  pain  in  her  ankle  made  everything 
seem  so  black  that  she  had  to  pause  and  stay 
where  she  was.  She  hallooed  her  best,  but  no 
one  passed  that  way,  and  no  one  heard  her. 

She  saw  the  color  in  the  sunset  sky,  like  a 
vast  crimson  flower  with  a  golden  heart,  fade 
away  till  a  great  planet  hung  over  a  sea  of  amber 
air,  and  then  the  twilight  drew  a  veil  across  the 
planet,  and  pale,  sweet  stars  flickered  out  in 
a  multitude,  and  it  darkened  into  deep  night, 
so  deep  and  so  far  that  it  suddenly  seemed 
to  Charlotte,  as  she  stopped  complaining  long 
enough  to  look  up,  that  she  almost  saw  into 
heaven.  A  blue  star,  like  an  immense  jewel, 
was  swinging  up  out  of  the  northeast,  and  a 
meteor  slipped  along  and  left  a  trail  of  light, 
and  the  sense  of  her  naughtiness  gave  these 
great  things  a  very  depressing  effect. 


96  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

It  began  to  be  quite  cold;  she  was  already 
chill  with  her  wetting.  It  looked  to  her  as  if 
she  were  going  to  be  left  here  all  night.  And 
maybe  she  would  die.  She  wondered  why  no 
one  missed  her;  why  her  aunt,  or  the  Meyers, 
or  even  the  minister,  was  not  looking  for  her; 
if  they  did  n't  care  enough  about  her  to  notice 
she  was  gone. 

Then  she  remembered  that  they  were  all  hav- 
ing the  hot  buttered  muffins  and  plum  preserves. 
And  very  likely  Marcia  was  telling  that  story  of 
the  African  lion  and  the  polar  bear,  and  it  was 
enough  to  make  you  die  of  laughing.  As  she 
thought  of  the  muffins,  she  felt  extraordinarily 
hungry ;  as  she  thought  of  the  story,  she  cried 
a  little.  Then  she  worried  along  on  her  elbows, 
and  reached  the  stump  where  the  cows,  when 
there  were  cows  there,  rubbed  themselves,  and 
she  pulled  herself  up,  and  stood  on  one  leg,  and 
gingerly  put  her  other  foot  on  the  ground,  and  — 
walked  off  as  well  as  she  ever  did  in  her  life. 

She  didn't  know  what  to  make  of  it  —  it 
looked  like  a  miracle  —  but  she  had  an  inner 
consciousness  that  miracles  were  not  likely  to  be 


APRIL  SHOWERS.  97 

wrought  for  her.  At  any  rate,  she  had  no  time 
to  think  of  it,  out  here  all  alone  in  the  dark. 
She  gave  a  scream  and  ran  like  a  deer,  and  never 
stopped  to  wonder  what  had  become  of  her  lame 
ankle. 

"Oh,  children,"  said  Marcia,  as  they  were 
trooping  home,  "how  good  you  were!  It  was 
beautiful  of  you  to  behave  so.  Now,  Miss  Eisley 
won't  think  it  is  we  that  are  ruining  Charlotte. 
I  will  tell  you  this  very  moment  the  story  of  the 
African  lion  and  the  polar  bear. 

" '  I  may  be  draggled,'  said  the  polar  bear, '  but 
I  am  naturally  as  white  as  the  driven  snow 
about  me.' 

" '  And  I,'  said  the  African  lion,  '  am  as  yellow 
as  the  sand  of  my  deserts  when  the  sun  shines 
on  them.' 

"'My  very  first  food,'  said  the  polar  bear, 
'  was  ice-cream  — '  Goodness  !  This  is  Char- 
lotte's story ;  she  always  rolls  over  at  the  funny 
part.  Where  do  you  suppose  she  can  be 
gone  ? " 

And  just  then  Charlotte  appeared  among  them, 
and  they  all  had  to  go  back  and  intercede  for  her 

7 


98  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

with  her  aunt,  who  paid  no  attention  to  a  word 
they  said,  but  shut  the  door  in  their  faces,  and 
plunged  Charlotte  into  a  hot  bath,  and  rubbed 
her  till  she  tingled,  crying  herself  with  perplexity 
and  anxiety,  and  saying  she  did  n't  know  what 
was  to  become  of  Charlotte,  till  Charlotte  cried 
with  her. 

"  I  think  you  must  give  me  a  whipping  to-mor- 
row," said  Charlotte,  solemnly.  "  If  it  will  make 
me  better.  But  you  know  I  only  disobeyed  —  I 
was  n't  being  wicked  —  I  was  getting  something 
for  a  sick  person  —  Eafe  is  a  little  sick  —  " 

"  A  little  sick  ! "  cried  her  aunt.  "  It  is  ten  to 
one  he  will  never  be  any  better.  You  have 
broken  his  back  among  you ! " 

And  then  Charlotte  howled.  "  Oh,  it  won't  do 
any  good  to  whip  me  ! "  she  sobbed.  "  You  will 
have  to  send  me  to  prison !  I  ought  to  go  to  the 
House  of  Correction  ! " 

"I  will  make  this  the  house  of  correction!" 
said  Miss  Risley. 

"Why  don't  you  send  me  to  school?"  asked 
Charlotte,  stopping  her  sobs  suddenly.  "  Mar- 
cia  is  going  back  day  after  to-morrow.  Oh,  I 


APRIL   SHOWERS.  99 

want  to  go  where  I  sha'n't  see  Eafe  and  think  of 
it  every  day  ! " 

"Not  till  I  can't  govern  you  myself,"  said 
Miss  Eisley. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  a  little  barefooted 
white  figure  beside  her  bed  waked  Miss  Eisley. 
"  Oh,  do  you  really  think  Eafe  is  going  to  die  ? " 
she  whispered. 

"No,  I  don't!"  snapped  Miss  Eisley.  "You 
go  right  back  to  bed.  Perhaps  he  '11  be  a  hunch- 
back, unless  the  doctor  has  some  way  to  prevent 
it.  You  see  what  comes  —  " 

But  Charlotte  had  rushed  back  in  a  tempest  of 
cries  and  sobs,  and  from  time  to  time  in  the 
night  Miss  Eisley  heard  her,  till  she  could  bear 
it  no  longer,  and  she  got  up  and  took  her  into 
her  own  bed,  and  left  her  there  asleep  at  last, 
and  darkened  the  room  and  stole  away  at  sunrise. 

But  early  in  the  forenoon  Charlotte  was  over 
at  the  Meyers',  where  the  frightened  children 
were  now  very  quiet  and  awestruck,  and  was  up 
in  Eafe's  room. 

"  I  'm  going  to  have  a  whipping  when  I  go 
back,"  she  said.  "But  I  wanted  to  run  over  first 


100  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

and  tell  you  that  if  it  was  I  that  hurt  you,  I  will 
spend  all  my  life  waiting  on  you  ! " 

"  Charlotte,  there  is  n't  any  straw  in  your  sort 
of  angel,  whatever  Marcia's  is  ! "  whispered  Raf  e. 
Presently,  between  little  gasps,  he  added,  "And 

—  I  guess  —  it  is  n't  as  bad  —  as  you  think.     I 
shall  be  —  abed  —  a  good  while,  the  doctor  says 

—  and  I  always  did  like  to  lie  abed." 

But  Charlotte  knew  he  was  in  pain,  and  she 
went  downstairs  with  her  face  all  blubbered 
with  tears  again,  and  threw  herself  into  Marcia's 
arms  with  inconsolable  outcry.  "  I  don't  know 
how  I  can  bear  it,"  she  sobbed. 

"That  child  will  have  to  be  sent  away  to 
school,"  said  Mr.  Meyer,  "and  have  her  mind 
diverted,  or  she'll  be  sick."  And  he  went  on 
pacing  up  and  down. 

"Miss  Eisley  thinks  that  would  be  shirking 
her  duty,"  said  Marcia,  quite  worn  out  herself 
with  all  the  sorrow  and  excitement.  "As  if 
Miss  Marks  could  n't  do  it  twice  as  well ! 
Besides,  Charlotte,  you  know  perfectly  it  was  I 
and  not  you  who  did  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't  know.     And  it  does  n't  make 


APRIL  SHOWERS.  101 

it  any  better.  It 's  done.  And  auntie 's  going  to 
have  Dr.  Grump  and  the  minister  to  tea  to-night, 
to  see  what  ought  to  be  done  with  me.  And  I 
wish  it  was  my  back!  And  I  don't  care  what 
they  do!" 

But  John  had  pricked  up  his  ears  at  her 
words.  And  it  was  in  consequence  that,  an 
hour  or  two  afterwards,  he  might  have  been 
seen  sitting  on  the  step  of  Miss  Eisley's  side 
piazza  with  Charlotte,  every  now  and  then  going 
into  the  dining-room,  apparently  on  a  tour  of 
observation. 

"  I  say  —  it 's  just  stretched  on  a  frame  and 
held  by  nails,"  said  he.  "It's  easy  enough  to 
pull  'em  out,  and  we'll  lift  it  down,  it's  light, 
and  put  it  in  the  passage;  no  one  comes  out 
here  yet.  It's  luck  —  being  across  that  recess. 
There 's  the  red  satin  quilt  we  can  hang  over  the 
corner,  you  know.  And  there 's  the  very  things 
they  wear,  upstairs  in  the  garret  now.  And 
we  '11  hear  every  word  the  doctor  and  the  minis- 
ter say  —  " 

"We'll    do   it!"   said    Charlotte.      "It'll   be 
better   fun   than   tableaux ! "  brightening  as   if 


102  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

the  sun  had  come  out.  And  they  went  in  and 
stood  like  entranced  creatures  before  the  great 
life-sized  copy  of  Charlotte's  great-great-grand- 
mother and  her  brother,  painted  when  they  were 
children,  the  boy  carrying  a  riding-whip  and  the 
girl  holding  an  orange. 

The  tea-table  was  arrayed  that  afternoon  in 
Miss  Kisley's  best  damask  and  old  blue,  and 
Peggy  came  in  to  light  the  candles  in  the  side 
candlesticks  on  the  table,  the  roof  of  the  piazza 
making  the  room  shadowy.  She  felt  as  if  there 
were  something  wrong  about  the  room ;  she 
couldn't  tell  what  it  was;  and  just  then  the 
knocker  fell,  and  Miss  Eisley  was  receiving  the 
guests  in  her  high  and  mightiest  state,  and 
presently,  after  brief  blessing,  the  ceremonies 
were  opened  with  the  grape-fruit  half  filled  with 
sugar  and  sherry,  the  aroma  having  made  two 
unbidden  little  mouths  water  for  some  time  and 
still  making  them  water. 

"I  have  asked  you  here  and  left  word  when 
Charlotte  comes  in  —  for  she  and  John  Meyer 
are  off  on  some  raid  —  that  she  shall  go  to  bed 
supperless  —  " 


APKIL   SHOWERS.  103 

"  Oh  ! "  came  a  groan,  as  if  from  a  mouse  in  the 
wainscot. 

"  So  that  I  might  consult  you  about  her,"  said 
Miss  Eisley.  "I  am  sure,"  pride  at  the  fore 
again,  "  there  is  no  real  harm  in  the  child.  But 
she  overflows  with  spirits,  and  —  and  —  and  I 
can't  govern  her.  She  is  —  oh,  she  is  her  father 
all  over.  And  you  knew  dear  Charles  — "  and 
here  Miss  Eisley  fumbled  for  her  handkerchief. 

"  It 's  tiring  my  hand  dreadfully  to  hold  this 
orange  up  so,"  the  child  in  the  picture  was  mur- 
muring with  lips  that  did  not  dare  to  move. 
"  And  I  want  to  sneeze.  I  've  caught  cold.  And 
I  can't  look  at  nothing  one  moment  longer." 

"You  keep  still  or  I'll  make  you!"  growled 
another  whisper. 

What  made  Miss  Risley  start  so  as  she  wiped 
her  eyes,  wandering  from  the  bright  table  to  the 
shadowy  walls  ?  Were  her  troubles  getting  too 
much  for  her  and  her  mind  failing  ?  Had  that 
dim  portrait  of  her  great-grandmother  when  a 
child  winked  at  her? 

"  My  dear  Miss  Kisley,"  the  minister  was  say- 
ing, "  Charlotte  is  a  dear  child."  It  was  all  the 

D" 


104  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

little  boy  in  the  picture  could  do  not  to  kick 
the  little  girl  in  the  picture.  "But  she  needs 
brothers  and  sisters  —  " 

"  As  if  I  had  n't  you  and  the  rest ! "  the  whis- 
per came  again. 

"  She  needs  a  care  that  I  don't  know  how  to 
give  her  !  "  cried  Miss  Kisley. 

"  Send  her  to  school,"  mumbled  Dr.  Grump, 
his  mouth  full  of  the  broiled  oysters.  "  Excel- 
lent school  —  Meyer's  oldest  girl — Waterways 
—  dear  —  but  cheap  at  any  price  —  save  your  life 
and  your  reason  —  make  a  woman  of  her  —  " 

"  Kerchew ! "  came  a  sneeze  from  the  great- 
grandmother  in  the  picture,  and  the  next  instant 
two  little  wretches  were  racing  out  of  the  room 
and  the  picture  frame  was  empty ! 

"  Oh,  my  Copley ! "  shrieked  Miss  Kisley. 
"  Charlotte  !  Charlotte,  do  you  hear  me  ?  Come 
here,  miss,  this  very  minute  ! " 

And  —  well,  it  was  a  very  bad  quarter  of  an 
hour  that  followed.  But  that  was  when  it  was 
arranged  that  Charlotte  should  go  to  school  with 
Marcia  on  Saturday  morning. 


BAFE. 


RAFE. 

\  17  HEN  Eafe  at  last  fell  asleep,  after  the 
*  *  doctors  were  through  with  him  and  had 
given  him  a  composing  draught,  he  had  a  singu- 
lar dream.  He  had  always  the  hearing  of  Fine 
Ears,  and  he  had  heard  the  doctors  in  the  next 
room  saying  the  injury  to  his  back  was  such 
that  it  was  doubtful  if  he  ever  walked  again. 
For  a  moment  a  wave  of  anger  had  swept  over 
him,  a  fierce  surge  of  rage.  Against  whom  ? 
against  what?  He  knew  not.  His  heart  sank 
with  the  uselessness  of  his  anger.  It  was  idle 
to  feel  any  indignation  with  the  children  who 
had  pulled  the  chair  out  and  let  him  fall  — 
Marcia  and  Charlotte  and  John  and  Helen  and 
the  rest ;  he  was  one  of  them  and  as  much  in 
the  sport  as  they  had  been.  But  at  any  rate 
there  were  the  doctors;  their  shoulders  were 


108  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

broad  enough  to  bear  his  wrath.  Much  they 
knew  !  Walk  again  ?  Of  course  he  should  walk 
again  !  He  would  walk  again  just  to  defy  them  ! 
He  heard  the  children  crying  in  the  room  above ; 
he  looked  up  and  saw  his  mother's  eyes  brim- 
ming like  two  violets  full  of  dew  ;  something 
made  his  heart  stand  still  for  half  a  beat.  Was 
it  really  so  serious,  after  all  ?  He  would  not  give 
up  till  his  father  gave  up.  Was  that  his  father  ? 
He  saw  him  in  the  mantel  mirror,  face  down 
on  the  lounge  in  the  other  room,  whose  door 
had  sprung  ajar ;  he  heard  him  —  yes,  he  heard 
him  groan.  It  was  a  dreadful  sound;  he  felt 
himself  trembling;  his  blood  seemed  to  spin  in 
a  hot  torrent.  He  would  let  them  see  whether 
he  would  walk  or  not !  And  then  the  beads 
started  out  on  his  forehead,  on  his  breast  —  all 
over  him ;  he  had  called  on  every  power  he  had 
and  he  had  not  moved  a  line.  And  with  that, 
the  fright,  the  horror,  the  effort,  the  composing 
draught  all  worked  together,  and  he  was  sink- 
ing, sinking,  sinking,  and  slowly  drowned  in 
sleep. 

As  he  slept,  and  in  his  dream,  the  day  was 


KAFE.  109 

dying  and  he  was  far  from  home ;  he  could  see 
the  last  rays  of  the  sun  sparkling  in  the  win- 
dows of  the  house  up  there  —  or  was  it  the 
pillared  porch  of  some  building  in  the  skies  ? 
Whatever  it  was,  between  him  and  its  shining 
stairs  stretched  a  weary  space,  long  wastes  of 
furze,  pitfalls  of  bog,  fields  of  stubble  —  a  rough 
and  rocky  country  where  the  dark  gathered.  A 
storm  was  coming  up  —  he  could  not  tell  if  it 
were  the  wind  or  some  wild  beast  that  howled. 
And  there  beyond,  in  the  calm,  upper  light  of 
the  hillside,  lay  the  dear  home,  where  the  sun, 
bursting  from  the  low  cloud,  glittered  on  the 
panes.  How  could  he  ever  reach  it  ?  How  was 
he  to  cross  that  interminable  country,  with  its 
flints,  its  stubble,  its  miry  spots,  its  horrid  shad- 
ows ?  His  heart  failed  him,  and  he  was  cold 
with  the  chill  of  death.  And  suddenly  a  strange 
buoyancy  seemed  to  possess  him ;  he  looked  up 
over  his  shoulder,  and  a  great  form  towered 
there,  —  a  great,  beautiful  shape  clad  in  white, 
with  long,  rosy  wings  that  shed  a  glow  about 
them. 

"  Oh,  you  are  going  to  carry  me  ! "  cried  Kafe. 


110  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"  No,"  said  the  angel,  "  you  are  going  to  walk. 
I  am  going  to  walk  with  you." 

"  What  is  your  name  ? "  said  Eafe,  looking  up 
again  wonderingly. 

"  I  am  called  the  Love  of  God,"  said  the  angel ; 
and  he  put  his  strong,  warm  hand  under  Rafe's 
arm,  and  they  began  to  move.  And  half  the 
weary  length  of  the  long  way  was  behind  them  ; 
and  at  the  roughest  places  that  strong,  warm 
hand  seemed  to  lift  Eafe  so  that  his  feet  skimmed 
over  the  top  of  the  flints  and  the  prickly  stub- 
ble and  never  felt  them.  And  they  left  storm 
and  cloud  far  aside,  and  the  miry  spots  were  but 
pools  reflecting  heaven,  —  in  one  of  them  he  saw 
a  star  when  he  could  see  no  star  in  the  sky. 
And  he  was  up  on  the  clear,  high  level,  twilight 
and  blue  darkness  wrapping  the  country  he  had 
crossed,  the  steps  of  home  shining  in  the  yet 
higher  light,  when  the  pleasant  wind  gave  a 
great  sob  and  he  woke  to  hear  Bridget  cry,  "  Oh, 
for  the  love  of  God,  docthor  dear,  you  do  be 
hurting  the  b'y  !  " 

He  had  probably  dreamed  all  this  while 
Bridget  was  exclaiming  and  the  doctor  was  lift- 


EAFE.  HI 

ing  him.  He  was  not  in  any  pain,  but  he  was 
quite  angry  with  Bridget  for  waking  him.  Yet 
it  was  a  delightful  dream  that  Bridget  had  given 
him,  —  an  immensely  vivid  dream  to  him;  it  all 
swept  over  him  again.  Then  he  looked  up  at 
her  and  smiled.  And  Bridget  threw  her  apron 
over  her  head,  crying,  "  Oh  the  poor  craythur ! " 
and  running  from  the  room. 

There  had  been  an  injury  to  the  spinal  cord, 
occasioning  a  temporary  paralysis,  and  he  could 
not  speak.  But  he  had  no  desire  to  speak.  He 
closed  his  eyes  and  thought  over  his  pleasant 
dream;  its  meaning  flashed  through  his  brain 
like  a  light.  He  was  drowsing  off  again,  and 
seemed  to  hear  the  angel  say  :  "  Any  love  helps, 
you  know.  But  the  Love  of  God  helps  and  lifts, 
too." 

He  was  saying  it  to  himself  as  he  woke  again 
and  saw  his  mother  sitting  by  the  bedside  cry- 
ing. That  was  a  love  that  hurt,  he  thought. 
He  did  not  like  to  see  her  crying;  it  declared 
that  something  dreadful  was  the  matter  with 
him.  His  poor  little  ailing  mother,  who  had 
such  trouble  with  her  strong,  unruly  brood,  — 


112  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

he  was  sorry  to  have  her  feel  so  distressed.  She 
held  his  limp  hand  in  hers.  He  tried  to  tell  her 
not  to  worry,  to  say  he  was  all  right.  His  eyes 
darkened  with  horror  when  he  found  that  even 
a  sound  was  impossible.  He  was  faint  and 
everything  was  growing  black.  But  there  was 
his  mother  still  crying,  —  he  must  reassure  her, 
at  any  rate.  The  will  to  do  it  seemed  to  tingle 
through  him  as  if  he  had  caught  hold  of  a  huge 
magnet,  and  suddenly  his  mother  exclaimed,  "  Oh, 
he  understands !  He  is  conscious !  He  has 
pressed  my  hand ! " 

"  He  will  come  round  then,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  The  vitality  of  youth  is  an  enormous  element. 
It  has  given  new  life  to  the  nerve  force." 

"  It  was  love  that  gave  it,"  thought  Eafe,  and 
he  pressed  his  mother's  hand  again. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  boy  !  "  she  cried,  wiping  his  fore- 
head and  her  own  eyes.  "  My  darling  one !  It 
is  too  great  an  effort ! " 

"It  has  saved  him,"  the  doctor  said.  "He 
might  have  sunk  away  into  nothingness  but  for 
that  effort." 

"  But  for  that  love,"  thought  Rafe.    "  That  was 


RAFE.  113 

the  love  that  helps,"  he  thought,  as  he  fell  off  to 
sleep  again. 

"And  the  Love  of  God  helps  and  lifts,  too," 
said  the  angel  in  his  thoughts. 

It  was  some  time  after  this,  when  he  could 
both  speak  and  move  his  arms,  that  Miss  Persis, 
to  whom  he  had  told  his  dream,  which  was  still 
such  a  real  thing  to  him,  and  who  often  left  the 
children  to  their  own  devices  that  she  might 
come  and  relieve  his  mother,  was  sitting  beside 
his  bed  and  reading.  She  read  in  a  low  and  lull- 
ing tone  the  Twenty-third  Psalm.  "  He  leadeth 
me  beside  the  still  waters,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  they  are  very  still  waters!"  exclaimed 
Rafe,  with  a  weary  bitterness. 

"  I  suppose  you  mean,"  said  Miss  Persis,  "  that 
this  pain  and  paralysis  seem  cruel." 

"  Of  course  I  do  ! "  he  cried. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Rafe  dear,"  said  poor  Miss 
Persis,  "  that  you  are  very  young  to  —  to  pass 
sentence  on  God  ? "  She  hesitated,  thinking  he 
might  not  understand  her,  but  went  on,  remem- 
bering how  preternaturally  illness  sometimes 
sharpens  the  understanding,  as  a  pear  ripens  first 


114  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

round  the  sting  of  the  wasp.  "  Don't  you  think 
that  you  are  —  that  I  am  —  too  small  and  dull 
to  attempt  to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  universe  ? 
The  best  minds  have  failed  to  solve  that  riddle, 
to  discover  the  mystery  of  pain.  Do  you  sup- 
pose you  can  ? " 

"  I  can  feel  it,"  said  Eafe,  grimly. 

"  I  don't  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  you  ever,  on 
a  spring  morning,  when  you  saw  the  sky  burn- 
ing velvet-blue  behind  the  rosy  apple  blossoms, 
the  air  clear  as  crystal  and  overflowing  with 
sunshine,  were  filled  with  a  sense  of  the  beauty 
of  the  world,  every  one  of  your  nerves  thrilling 
with  the  joy  of  it?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Eafe. 

"  Or,  on  a  summer  evening,  when  all  was  ten- 
der purple  and  stars  looked  down  from  far  above 
and  up  from  far  beneath,  and  you  heard  bells 
ringing  over  the  water,  and  the  breath  of  a  flower 
floated  by  like  a  waft  of  the  air  of  another 
world  ? ". 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Eafe,  again.  "No,  I 
guess  not.  I  did  n't  want  to  go  to  bed,  though. 
Yes,  I  suppose  so." 


KAFE.  115 

"And  I  have  been,  too.  And  I  felt  as  if  it 
were  God's  very  word  spoken  to  me,  —  His  own 
voice  and  message.  And  my  heart  sprang  to 
hear  it,  and  I  answered  Him  with  my  joy." 

"  Well,  may  be,"  said  Eafe,  rather  indifferently. 

"  And  do  you  suppose  it  may  not  be  that 
when  some  pain  as  sharp,  some  suffering  as 
strong  in  its  way  as  the  joy  was  in  that  way, 
comes  to  us,  and  again  makes  every  nerve  thrill 
and  answer,  it  is  n't  equally  a  message  from 
God,  —  that  He  is  not  saying  that  word  also 
to  us  ? " 

"Why?"  demanded  Eafe.  "I  hadn't  done 
anything !  Oh,  I  never  did  anything  very,  very 
wrong,  you  know  —  would  you  fix  the  pillows, 
Miss  Persis  ?  They  are  so  hot  1  I  am  so  tired  ! 
—  except  to  make  John  mind,  and  he  ought  to 
mind." 

"  '  Why  ? '  That  is  the  question  the  thinkers 
of  all  time  have  asked,"  Miss  Persis  said,  as  she 
made  him  easier.  "  And  no  one  knows  the  an- 
swer. We  only  know  there  must  be  an  answer, 
because  God  is  good." 

"How  do  you   know  that?"  asked  Eafe,  his 


116  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

big  eyes  burning  with  the  pain  just  then.  "  If 
He  made  pain,  was  that  good?" 

"  I  suppose  the  dragon-fly,  bursting  his  sheath, 
suffers  pain.  But  what  wings  he  gets  by  means 
of  it  to  fly  through  all  heaven  ! " 

"But  why  couldn't  it  have  been  made  so  there 
would  n't  have  been  the  pain  ? " 

"There  it  is.  And  we  don't  know.  We  do 
know  that  suffering,  rightly  taken,  strengthens 
the  wings  of  the  soul  and  gives  them  great  flight 
heavenward.  And  it  gives  insight,  too.  You 
understand  what  I  say  to  you  now,  for  instance, 
but  six  months  ago  I  should  not  have  thought 
of  talking  this  way." 

"  Yes,"  said  Rafe,  "  I  have  grown  so  old.  I 
don't  have  anything  to  do  but  to  think  now  and 
to  ache.  I'd  like  to  be  the  way  I  was  six 
months  ago,  though !  I  'm  dead  tired  of  wrest- 
ling with  this  pain,  Miss  Persis." 

Miss  Persis  seldom  pitied  Rafe  in  words,  fear- 
ing her  pity  might  only  weaken  him.  "The 
young  Greeks  that  you  are  so  fond  of  reading 
about,"  she  said,  "developed  their  limbs  and 
muscles  with  constant  struggle  and  wrestle. 


RAFE.  117 

And  it  really  made  them  resemble  the  ideal  they 
had  of  their  own  gods.  Perhaps  we  grow  to 
resemble  our  loftier  ideal  only  by  struggle  and 
wrestle  of  the  soul,  and  suffering  is  the  only 
thing  we  have  to  wrestle  with.  It  is  like  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  that  came  for  the  patriarch  to 
wrestle  with  in  the  night,  you  remember.  We 
can't  tell  what  great,  fine  thing  this  wrestling 
may  make  us.  '  For  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God, 
and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,' " 
said  Miss  Persis.  "Anyway,  pain  must  be  a 
sort  of  consecration,  Rafe.  It  brings  us  nearer 
to  God." 

"  It  does  n't  me,"  said  Eafe. 

"But  it  will.  Suffering  is  surely  the  secret 
place  of  God,  for  we  cannot  penetrate  its  reason, 
and,  you  know,  '  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret 
place  of  the  Most  High  shall  abide  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Almighty.'  If  God  gives  pain, 
He  gives  it  as  He  does  other  blessings  — 

"  Other  blessings ! " 

"  He  gives  it  with  His  own  hand.  You  take 
it  straight  from  Him.  And  how  close  it  brings 
you  —  " 


118  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"I  don't  want  to  be  close  to  any  one  who 
gives  me  such  aching.  Oh,  Miss  Persis,  let  me 
hold  your  hand ! " 

"Don't  you  remember  what  the  prophet 
thought  God  said  to  him  ?  '  When  thou  passest 
through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee ;  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee : 
when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt 
not  be  burned;  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle 
upon  thee.  .  .  .  Fear  not ;  for  I  am  with  thee.' 
That  is,  you  know,  if  you  want  Him,  if  you  call." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care !  I  don't  care  for  anything, 
if  I  am  never  to  go  out  again  —  or  run  —  or  grow. 
It 's  a  little  easier  now.  But  I  heard  the  doctors 
say  —  " 

"  If  any  one  took  you,  Eafe,  into  a  wonderful 
place,  all  shining  and  clear,  with  steps  leading 
up  into  the  very  courts  of  heaven,  only  you  were 
blind  and  could  not  see  a  thing  of  the  glory  and 
loveliness,  and  a  hand  came  and  tore  away  the 
film  over  your  eyes,  even  if  it  hurt,  would  you 
not  love  the  hand  ?  Some  time,  because  of  this 
pain  and  suffering,  your  larger  vision  will  see 
into  a  world  of  which  you  do  not  dream  to-day. 


RAFE. 

And  I  suppose  there  must  be  an  especial  purpose 
in  opening  your  eyes  to  it.  Now  I  think  it  is 
time  for  nourishment  —  " 

"  It 's  always  time  for  something  hateful,"  said 
Eafe. 

And  while  Miss  Persis  sat  and  softly  sang, 
Eafe  shut  his  eyes  and  tried  to  sleep  and  could 
not  and  had  to  think.  And  what  he  thought 
was  that  there  was  no  power  on  earth  to  help 
him,  and  where  could  he  look  for  help?  Too 
young,  too  weak,  too  ignorant  to  reach  it,  in  the 
long  midnights  when  sleep  failed  him,  in  the 
long  hours  before  the  gray  of  dawn,  it  must  have 
been  that  the  Lord's  protection  came  to  the  child, 
called  him  by  name,  and  wrapped  him  round. 

It  was  several  weeks  later  that  Miss  Persis 
had  been  reading  in  Kevelation  a  chapter  that 
always  took  Eafe's  fancy  with  the  story  of  the 
city  of  jewels  descending  out  of  heaven  from 
God.  " '  Neither  shall  there  be  any  pain  there,' " 
she  repeated,  after  she  had  finished  it.  The 
night  was  warm,  and  the  window  was  opened 
wide,  and  the  curtains  drawn  apart,  and  Eafe, 
among  his  pillows,  could  see  the  moon  flooding 


120  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

all  the  sapphire  hollow  of  the  sky  with  light. 
There  had  been  a  storm  in  the  distance,  and 
some  enormous  snowy  clouds  were  piled  in  lofty 
masses  above  a  base  of  -low,  purple  thunder- 
clouds where  the  silent  lightnings  still  shot  to 
and  fro,  and  every  few  moments  the  reflection  of 
the  lightnings  filled  the  high,  snowy  masses  with 
a  splendor  of  quivering,  wavering,  evanescent 
flame,  till  they  seemed  like  towers  of  fire-opal 
itself. 

"You  can  almost  see  it  now,"  said  Eafe, — 
"that  city." 

"  What  a  beautiful  world  it  is ! "  said  Miss 
Persis,  as  she  built  up  his  pillows  again.  "  What 
a  beautiful  being  God  must  be  to  have  dreamed 
of  such  beauty  and  to  have  made  it  —  if  it  is  not, 
indeed,  a  part  of  Him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Rafe. 

"  See  the  moon  —  how  she  rides  up  in  majesty." 

"  She  is  like  a  queen  going  to  her  palace,  — 
that  great  tower  there  in  the  clouds,"  said  Kafe. 

"  Yes.  We  are  so  apt  to  personify  the  wonder- 
ful things  of  nature.  Are  you  quite  comfortable 
now  ?  But  she  is  not  a  queen ;  she  is  not  mov- 


RAPE.  121 

ing  consciously,  nor  of  herself.  It  is  the  force  of 
God  that  moves  her,  as  it  is  that  bursts  the 
flower  from  the  bud,  that  brings  the  fragrance  of 
the  honeysuckle  to  you  on  the  breath  of  the 
night." 

"  And  that  makes  me  see  the  beauty  of  it  all," 
said  Eafe. 

"  If  beauty  is  a  part  of  God,"  Miss  Persis  said, 
after  they  had  looked  out  in  silence  a  little  while, 
"  how  freely  He  is  giving  Himself  to  us  all  the 
time !  How  He  must  love  us !  For  you  see 
beauty  is  everywhere,  in  the  crystal  of  the  grain 
of  sand  as  much  as  in  the  high  arch  of  heaven. 
How  can  one  see  the  summer  night  —  that  pale, 
far  planet  there,  like  an  outpost  of  universes  yet 
beyond  —  and  not  believe  in  God  and  not  love 
Him  ? " 

"  I  do  believe  in  Him,  Miss  Persis,"  said  Eafe. 
"  I  do  love  Him." 

Sitting  in  the  window-seat,  Miss  Persis  began 
softly  to  sing  the  Hundredth  Psalm  to  a  sweet 
old  chant,  the  moonlight  falling  over  her.  Rafe 
had  heard  it  many  times,  but  it  seemed  to  him 
that  night,  hearing  it,  as  if  he  had  gone  a  little 


122  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

way  behind  the  words  and  the  music  into  the 
heart  of  things. 

"One  almost  thinks,"  said  Miss  Persis,  pres- 
ently, "  that  what  the  apostle  said  of  faith,  that 
it  is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,  is  hardly 
the  whole  of  truth  on  such  a  night  as  this." 

"  When  we  feel  as  if  we  could  see  so  far  into 
heaven,"  said  Eafe. 

"  But  what  a  mighty  thing  faith  is,"  she  went 
on,  as  if  thinking  aloud.  "  I  wonder  a  boy  needs 
anything  more  heroic  to  fire  his  fancy  to  great 
deeds  than  the  tremendous  words  about  those 
'  who  through  faith  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought 
righteousness,  obtained  promises,  stopped  the 
mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  fire, 
escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness 
were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned 
to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens.' " 

"  Oh ! "  said  Eafe,  "  I  shall  never  do  anything 
like  that !  I  shall  only  be  lying  here." 

"  That  is  not  so  sure,"  said  Miss  Persis.  "  But 
if  you  do  there  will  be  some  reason  for  it.  I 
was  reading  the  other  day  what  Fra  Ugo  Bassi 
said  in  the  hospital  where  the  people,  lying  in 


RAFE.  123 

their  beds  in  five  converging  chambers,  heard 
him.  Although  I  do  not  believe  all  as  he  did, 
yet  I  find  the  thought  great  and  beautiful,  and  so 
will  you.  Suffering  is  the  cup  that  we  all  pray 
may  pass  from  us ;  and  Fra  Ugo  Bassi  says, — 

'But  if  Himself  He  come  to  thee,  and  stand 
Beside  thee,  gazing  down  on  thee  with  eyes 
That  smile,  and  suffer — that  will  smite  thy  heart 
With  their  own  pity  to  a  passionate  peace  — 
And  reach  to  thee  Himself  the  Holy  Cup 
(With  all  its  wreathen  stems  of  passion-flowers 
And  quivering  sparkles  of  the  ruby  stars), 
Pallid  and  royal,  saying,  "  Drink  with  Me," 
Wilt  thou  refuse  ?  Nay,  not  for  Paradise ! 
The  pale  brow  will  compel  thee,  the  pure  hands 
Will  minister  unto  thee ;  thou  shalt  take 
Of  that  communion  through  the  solemn  depths 
Of  the  dark  waters  of  thine  agony 
With  heart  that  praises  Him,  that  yearns  to  Him 
The  closer  through  that  hour.    Hold  fast  His  hand 
Though  the  nails  pierce  thine,  too !     Take  only  care 
Lest  one  drop  of  the  sacramental  wine 
Be  spilled,  of  that  which  ever  shall  unite 
Thee,  soul  and  body,  to  thy  living  Lord  ! 
Therefore  gird  up  thyself,  and  come  to  stand 
Unflinching  under  the  unfaltering  hand 
That  waits  to  prove  thee  to  the  uttermost. 
It  were  not  hard  to  suffer  by  His  hand 
If  thou  couldst  see  His  face  —  but  in  the  dark! 
That  is  the  one  last  trial :  be  it  so.' " 


124  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  In  the  dark,"  said  Eafe  ;  "  that  is  what  faith 
is  for,  I  suppose ;  that  is  where  the  angel  in  my 
dream  helps,  too." 

"  For  to  believe  in  God  is  to  love  Him ;  and 
love  is  that  strong  angel,"  said  Miss  Persis. 

"  But  always  to  be  lying  here  is  so  hard,  Miss 
Persis!" 

"  Yet  so  much  easier  for  the  company  of  that 
great  angel  with  the  rosy  wings." 

"  And  never  to  do  anything  for  Him  ! " 

"How  can  you  tell?"  coming  back  from  the 
window  where  she  had  lingered  and  bringing  him 
a  rose  with  the  dew  on  it.  "  Sometimes  I  think 
what  a  wonder  may  be  wrought,"  she  said,  "  by 
such  long  preparation  and  the  sanctification  of 
pain.  When  I  look  forward  I  see  a  man  fitted 
by  it  for  work  among  the  toiling  millions  in  the 
far  east,  in  the  islands  of  the  sea,  with  the  cow- 
boys of  the  plains,  in  the  dark  quarters  of  the 
city,  for  God's  work  anywhere,  everywhere !  I 
hear  his  voice  like  a  silver  trumpet  telling  the 
message  suffering  has  brought  him,  the  cheer  the 
love  of  God  has  taught  him  —  " 

"Oh,  Miss  Persis!" 


EAFE.  125 

"But,  even  if  that  never  comes,  it  may  be 
something  greater  and  better  yet  just  to  lie  and 
bear  God's  will  —  to  lie  in  the  daily  and  hourly 
touch  of  His  hand  —  doing  something  for  Him 
so  every  suffering  moment.  It  must  be  a  vast 
and  wonderful  work  that  needs  such  a  lifetime 
for  making  ready,  as  if  some  knight  forged  his 
own  armor  piece  by  piece  and  kept  his  vigil, 
too." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Persis,  you  put  the  heart  in  one  so ! " 

"  No,  not  I,  but  that  strong  angel,  the  Love  of 
God,  whose  touch  makes  suffering  sweet,  even  if 
it  does  not  make  its  reason  plain.  Perhaps  only 
when  I  meet  you  yourself  —  a  great,  swift  seraph 
sweeping  through  space  on  your  divine  errand  — 
shall  I  know  what  all  this  meant,  this  weary 
time  of  pain  and  suffering  in  the  dark." 

"  It  is  n't  always  in  the  dark,"  said  Rafe. 


THE  LITTLE  BLACK  FIDDLE. 


THE  LITTLE  BLACK  FIDDLE. 

TT  hung  in  the  garret,  on  one  of  the  big  nails 
•*•     there,   all  around  it   the    usual  lumber  of 
an  old  house,  —  trunks,  broken  chairs,  a  super- 
annuated  chest    of    drawers,   a   spinning-wheel, 
cobwebs. 

Years  and  years  ago  a  tramp  had  been  taken 
in  at  the  door  in  a  fainting  condition.  He  lay 
all  day  in  stupor  on  the  settee  where  they  had 
placed  him ;  and,  moved  with  pity,  and  in  some 
slight  consternation  as  to  what  was  to  become 
of  him,  and  of  themselves  too,  if  this  state  con- 
tinued, the  household  did  what  they  could  for 
him.  Just  before  dark  he  began  to  murmur  a 
broken  jargon  of  English  and  foreign  tongues,  and 
took  his  little  black  fiddle  from  his  side,  and  gave 
it  to  Mr.  Martin  with  as  impressive  an  air  as  if 
he  bestowed  a  kingdom,  the  children  looking  on, 

9 


wide-eyed  and  open-mouthed.  Then  he  died, 
and  was  buried,  and  nobody  ever  knew  anything 
further  about  him;  and  the  children  twanged 
the  fiddle  awhile,  and  at  last  it  was  hung  up 
in  the  garret,  and  there  had  been  the  end  of  it. 

The  little  fiddle  hung  forgotten  on  its  nail ; 
but  the  children  grew  in  strength  and  beauty 
every  day,  and  made  the  house  nearly  as  lively 
as  the  ark  must  have  been  in  all  the  forty  days 
before  it  rested  on  Ararat.  Sometimes  the  little 
fiddle  vibrated  to  their  laughter,  and  gave  it  a 
faint  echo  from  its  hollow  breast,  but  that  was 
all  the  share  it  had  in  it. 

What  a  cheerful  group  they  were,  Belle  and 
Jessie  and  Fred  and  Frank,  and  the  twins  always 
rolling  over  each  other,  and  chuckling  as  if  that 
were  the  freshest  joke  in  the  world.  They  were 
just  as  cheerful  when  a  dozen  years  had  passed, 
and  the  children  were  becoming  men  and 
women,  childish  boisterousness  was  turning  into 
high-bred  gayety,  and  the  special  talent  was 
developing  that  belonged  to  each  of  them. 

But  the  general  talent  of  that  family  was  for 
charity.  They  had  a  genius  for  it,  —  a  genius,  as 


THE   LITTLE   BLACK   FIDDLE.  131 

Mrs.  Martin's  neighbors  used  to  say,  for  turning 
themselves  out  of  the  house  in  order  to  let  some- 
body else  in  :  a  little  house,  but  the  largest  you 
ever  knew,  for  it  held  the  most,  —  hospitable  to 
rich  and  poor,  the  wayfarer  never  leaving  it  un- 
refreshed,  the  sufferer  uncomforted. 

Yet  the  means  to  do  so  much  were  but  limited. 
Mr.  Martin  had  but  a  small  income ;  Mrs.  Martin 
found  it  necessary  to  count  every  penny  twice 
over,  to  turn  and  piece  and  remake,  and  never 
to  waste  a  crumb.  But,  when  that  was  all  done, 
there  was  always  something  left  for  the  widow 
and  fatherless ;  and  the  moment  there  was  any- 
thing to  do,  either  for  North  Street  or  the  Five 
Points  or  Borrioboola,  Mrs.  Martin's  door  was 
the  one  first  rapped  at.  And  what  a  vivid  inter- 
est it  was  that  was  taken  throughout  that  house 
in  every  case  that  came  up,  from  the  time  the 
little  bright  heads  could  cluster  together,  the 
little  fingers  hold  a  needle,  the  little  legs  run 
an  errand !  You  could  never  see  a  prettier  sight 
than  those  bright  heads,  those  glowing  faces, 
those  pitying  eyes.  "My  bunch  of  blossoms," 
Mr.  Martin  used  to  call  them,  and  say  they  gave 


132  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

their  honey  to  every  bee  that  vagabondized  about 
them.  And  by  and  by,  when  Belle  was  eighteen, 
and  Jessie  just  turning  sixteen,  and  the  rest 
coming  on,  this  same  sympathy  with  all  suffer- 
ing was  as  active  as  of  old ;  and  Jessie's  lovely 
face  seemed  every  day  to  grow  lovelier  with  the 
melting  tenderness  she  felt  to  every  one  that 
needed  gentle  word  or  deed  ;  and  when  she  sang 
her  songs  in  the  evening,  the  trait  seemed  some- 
how to  have  strained  itself  through  the  rich 
sweet  tones  of  her  voice,  and  to  make  the  hearer's 
heart  respond  to  its  touch  and  always  fill  his 
eyes  with  tears. 

"  Our  Jessie,"  the  father  used  to  say,  "  ought 
to  have  different  instruction  with  that  voice.  If 
you  hadn't  been  such  a  Sandemanian,  wife,  all 
your  life,  we  should  have  laid  by  enough  to  send 
her  to  Italy  and  have  her  voice  cultivated  as  it 
should  be." 

"  Well,  dear,  would  you  throw  away  all  your 
pleasant  memories  of  pain  relieved  and  all  the 
benefit  it  has  wrought  the  children's  characters, 
and  take  it  out  in  music  ? "  his  wife  would  ask. 
"  I  should  like  to  have  Jessie's  voice  attended 


THE   LITTLE   BLACK   FIDDLE.  133 

to ;  but,  bless  you,  it  might  do  her  more  harm 
than  good." 

"Harm ! "  said  Belle  once,  as  they  talked  it  over. 

"  Yes,  dear ;  we  all  have  our  vanities,  and  to 
nurse  one's  pride  —  " 

"  Oh,  mamma,  but  to  stand  up  and  lift  a  thou- 
sand people  on  your  voice  as  if  it  were  wings  for 
them !  Think  of  that,  —  of  the  delight  she 
could  give  so  many,  and  then  of  the  fortune 
she  could  make  and  the  things  she  could  do ! 
We  would  have  that  children's  hospital,  and  —  " 

"  Very  true,"  sighed  Mrs.  Martin. 

"  Very  true,"  sighed  her  husband.  "  It  would 
take  fifteen  hundred  dollars  to  send  Jessie  to 
Italy.  She  would  be  too  old  to  have  it  do  her 
voice  any  good  by  the  time  I  could  get  so  much 
together."  And  just  there  came  in  the  minis- 
ter's wife  to  see  about  the  concert  she  was  get- 
ting up  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  De  Sarcie 
children,  whose  parents  —  lately  organist  and 
soprano  in  the  little  church  —  were  lost  in  the 
"  Destroyer  "  on  their  way  to  Europe  for  some  pur- 
pose, at  which  concert  Jessie  was  to  sing  a  song, 
if  she  could  find  the  courage. 


134  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  You  need  n't  be  afraid,  Jessie,"  said  the  minis- 
ter's good  wife  ;  "  there 's  nobody  in  the  audience 
knows  a  note  more  music  than  you  do." 

"  Oh,  but  lie  will,  —  the  violinist,  you  know ; 
and  Madame  Eeuter,  if  she  comes  —  " 

"  She 's  coining.  We  're  to  pay  expenses.  And 
she  represented  the  case  to  Signor  Pazzani,  and 
told  him  they  were  the  children  of  musicians, 
and  he  volunteered.  It  was  too  good  of  him ! 
They're  to  stay  with  me." 

"  Oh,  not  both  of  them,  Mrs.  King ;  one 's 
enough,  with  all  your  care.  Send  one  here,"  said 
Mrs.  Martin. 

"  Well,  I  should  be  glad  to,  really.  I  '11  send 
you  the  signor.  Now,  Jessie,  sing  '  The  harp 
that  once  through  Tara's  halls,'  just  as  if  you 
were  on  the  platform,  and  we  were  all  down  on 
the  seats  before  you." 

And  so  Jessie  sang  it,  and  her  voice  swelled 
out  as  if  a  young  sibyl  sang,  with  the  words, 

11  Thus  Freedom  now  so  seldom  wakes  — 

The  only  throb  she  gives 
Is  when  some  heart  indignant  breaks, 
To  show  that  still  she  lives." 

And  the  minister's  wife  cried  and  went  home. 


THE  LITTLE   BLACK   FIDDLE.  135 

One  afternoon  next  week  Madame  Reuter  came 
down,  and  Mrs.  King  brought  the  Signer  Pazzani 
into  the  Martins'  parlor,  and  left  him. 

It  was  not  much  preparation  the  Martins  had 
been  able  to  make  for  their  distinguished  guest ; 
they  could  only  fill  his  room  full  to  overflowing 
with  Belle's  flowers,  that  grew  and  blossomed  in 
every  window  the  winter  long.  As  for  their 
table,  it  was  always  a  miracle  of  snow  and  silver 
and  parsley-trimmed  dishes,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible for  them  to  make  much  difference.  They 
found,  though,  that  it  was  of  no  consequence,  for 
the  signor  was  indifferent  to  everything  but 
bread  and  fruit  and  salad,  and  presently  looked 
about  him  for  the  young  lady  who  was  to  sing. 
"  You  are  she,"  he  said  presently  to  Jessie,  and 
began  talking  with  her  about  her  music  while  he 
crumbled  his  bread.  But  it  was  not  till  some 
hours  after  they  left  the  table  that  he  came 
down  from  his  room  and  demanded  to  hear  what 
she  could  do. 

Poor  Jessie  had  no  more  idea  of  hesitating  or 
refusing  than  if  an  angel  of  annunciation  had 
appeared  and  bidden  her.  She  went  instantly 


136  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

to  the  piano,  though  Belle  ran  before  her  to  play 
the  accompaniment.  Belle  had  to  play  the  pre- 
lude twice  over,  though,  before  Jessie  could  com- 
mand her  voice;  and  in  the  first  measures  it 
trembled  so  that  she  was  afraid  she  would  have 
to  stop,  and  she  was  pale  as  death.  "Courage, 
courage,  my  child,"  cried  the  signer,  and  she  took 
a  little  and  went  on.  And  soon  she  forgot  the 
signor  and  her  fright,  and  was  singing  as  freely 
as  a  bird  in  the  wildwood.  "  It  is  grand !  it  is 
delicious ! "  cried  the  signor,  in  his  own  tongue, 
which  Jessie  and  Belle  understood  tolerably. 
"It  is  a  voice  in  a  thousand.  In  a  thousand  ? 
A  voice  in  millions !  It  is  the  nightingale's ! 
and  it  must  have  care,  study,  training  — 
Italy." 

Jessie  shook  her  head,  and  felt  very  much  like 
crying.  She  knew  if  she  ever  showed  the  least 
desire  for  Italy,  her  father  would  cramp  himself, 
her  mother  forego  her  comforts,  the  children 
deny  themselves  everything;  they  would  sell 
the  piano,  move  into  a  meaner  house,  live  on 
little,  give  nothing  away.  She  had  never  inti- 
mated that  she  thought  the  thing  worth  while. 


THE   LITTLE   BLACK  FIDDLE.  137 

Now  she  shook  her  head  again  and  ventured  to 
say  in  such  Italian  as  she  had :  "  It  is  impossible. 
Please  don't  speak  of  it;  it  would  only  make 
grief  here.  But  thank  you  for  the  kind  words." 

And  then  the  signer  gazed  hard  at  the  lovely 
face  with  its  Madonna-like  oval,  and  its  great 
soft  dark  eyes,  and  said :  "  Nothing  is  impossible. 
Now  I  must  seek  my  violin.  It  was  to  come  by 
express,  but  has  not,  the  good  house-mother 
says." 

No ;  it  had  not  come,  and,  what  was  more,  it 
never  would  come  in  its  old  shape.  The  ex- 
press had  met  with  an  accident,  and  all  its  con- 
tents had  been  shattered.  The  violin  that  the 
Queen  of  Holland  had  given  Signer  Pazzani,  that 
Jacques  Stainer  had  made  himself  in  the  Tyrol 
two  hundred  years  ago  and  more,  was  nothing 
but  a  handful  of  chips. 

It  would  have  been  ludicrous,  if  it  had  not 
been  in  reality  harrowing,  to  see  the  signer's 
grief  and  rage  when  he  heard  of  the  destruction 
of  his  darling,  and  had  the  broken  bits  put  into 
his  hand.  He  remembered  nothing  more  about 
Jessie's  voice,  about  the  evening  concert;  he  sat 


138  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

down  among  the  fragments,  like  Marius  in  the 
ruins  of  Carthage,  and  bewailed  himself. 

It  was  an  intensely  cold  and  still  winter's  day; 
there  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  in  the  village, 
save  now  and  then  a  distant  sleigh-bell,  the 
dropping  of  some  huge  icicle,  or  the  loud  report 
of  some  nail  as  it  sprung  with  the  frost  in  the 
rafters.  As  the  sign  or  sat  there  now  with  the 
broken  volute  of  his  violin  in  his  left  hand,  and 
the  other  hand  wound  in  his  hair  distractedly, 
one  of  these  nails  went  off,  as  you  might  say, 
with  more  of  an  explosion  than  usual  upon  the 
frosty  silence  of  the  afternoon,  followed  by  a 
clear  resonant  note  that  for  half  a  moment 
seemed  to  fill  the  house  with  a  silvery  vibration. 
They  all  heard  it,  and  looked  up  bewildered ;  and 
suddenly  Jessie,  with  a  joyous  cry,  sprang  to  her 
feet  and  darted  from  the  room.  The  garret  door 
had  been  left  open  by  somebody,  she  found.  In 
a  moment  she  was  back,  and  had  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  signer,  whose  mood  of  frenzy  had 
been  succeeded  by  one  of  silent  desperation,  the 
little  black  fiddle. 

"It  fell  from  its  nail,"  she  was  saying.     "It 


THE   LITTLE   BLACK   FIDDLE.  139 

was  that  we  heard.  It  wanted  to  come  and  com- 
fort you,  you  see.  Is  it  good  for  anything  ?  Can 
you  mend  your  own  with  it  ?  It  is  so  old ! " 

"  Why  do  you  bring  me  this,  my  child  ? "  he 
asked  sadly,  but  took  it,  and  ran  his  eye  over  it. 
Something  seemed  to  strike  him  as  he  did  so. 
He  bent  his  head  quickly,  lifted  the  violin  to  his 
ear,  and  tapped  it  and  listened,  ran  his  finger 
down  its  lines,  took  out  his  handkerchief  and 
dusted  it  minutely.  His  hands  began  to  shake. 
He  was  holding  his  breath.  He  was  comparing 
the  measurements  of  the  little  black  fiddle  with 
certain  figures  in  a  memorandum-book  drawn 
from  his  pocket.  He  peered  into  its  every 
dimension  in  a  sort  of  mad  haste.  He  took  a 
magnifier,  and  then  with  a  bit  of  chamois  leather 
began  rubbing  the  end  of  the  little  black  fiddle 
as  if  he  were  polishing  a  jewel.  All  at  once  he 
cried  out,  — 

"Aha!  Behold  it!  It  is  here!  Eead  it,  my 
children,  read!  ' Sotto  la  disciplines  d?  A.  Stra- 
divarius,  Cremona.  I H  S.'  It  is  his,  the  Giu- 
seppe del  Jesu's,  when  the  great  Antoine  was  his 
master.  That  is  his  seal,  that '  I  H  S.'  Oh,  the 


140  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

rogue !  But  he  knew  music !  And  Antoine 
Stradivarius  has  had  it  in  his  hands  ;  has  looked 
at  its  sides,  its  table,  its  ouies,  its  lustrous  varnish  ; 
has  drawn  the  how  across  it;  has  said  it  was 
good !  Quick !  where  are  my  strings  ?  We  will 
see ;  we  will  see.  There  is  no  bridge.  That  is 
all  right.  The  bridge  would  not  have  answered. 
My  Stainer  bridge  is  whole  yet." 

He  was  silent  in  a  long  but  hurried  unrolling 
and  fastening  of  strings,  an  endless  tuning  and 
hearkening  and  tuning  again,  and  then  the  walls 
of  the  room  were  vibrant  about  them,  and  Signor 
Pazzani  was  playing  on  the  little  black  fiddle; 
and  the  sweet,  powerful  sonority,  the  suave, 
silvery,  intense  tone,  the  mellow  but  majestic 
strength,  were  ringing  in  their  ears  "  Like  the 
humming  of  a  swarm  of  angels'  wings,"  said  the 
signor,  suddenly  leaving  off,  with  his  bow  in 
the  air. 

"  Ah,  look  at  it !  What  grace  in  the  curves  ! 
how  severe  the  volute !  how  elastic  and  bound- 
ing the  tone !  and  the  color !  How  purple  and 
rich  and  full  of  lustres  it  will  come  out  when  I 
shall  restore  it!  Oh,  I  shall  restore  it!"  he 


THE   LITTLE   BLACK  FIDDLE.  141 

cried  gay ly,  smiling  on  them  one  and  all  "It 
will  be  mine.  You  will  not  think  of  keeping  it. 
You  can  none  of  you  play  on  it,"  he  began  to 
implore.  "It's  a  Guarnerius,  the  Giuseppe  del 
Jesu's.  It  is  worth  money  —  it  is  worth  more ; 
you  shall  have  a  thousand,  you  shall  have  fifteen 
hundred,  you  shall  have  two  thousand  dollars 
for  it!" 

"  Oh,  hush,  indeed  ! "  cried  Jessie.  "  Of  course 
you  shall  have  it,  Sir.  It  is  valueless  to  us ;  it 
is  yours ! " 

"  Stay,  stay  a  moment,  Jessie,"  said  her  father. 
"  The  little  black  fiddle  is  mine.  That  poor  old 
vagabond,  fallen  from  his  high  estate,  gave  it  to 
me.  It  is  a  way  bread  has  of  coming  back  upon 
the  waters  after  many  days.  If  the  signer  wants 
to  pay  me  a  thousand  dollars  for  it,  we  will  com- 
pass the  other  five  hundred  by  ourselves,  and 
you  shall  go  to  Italy." 

And  the  next  morning  Signor  Pazzani  went  off 
with  the  little  black  fiddle  tucked  under  his  arm, 
and  Mr.  Martin  went  to  the  city  with  him  to 
secure  the  passage  of  Jessie  and  her  aunt  in  the 
next  steamer  that  sailed  for  foreign  shores.  And 


142  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

the  little  fiddle  had  some  share  in  it,  after  all. 
And  one  day,  Lucia  wrote  from  Italy  to  Marnie 
Maurice  that  the  most  beautiful  singing  she  had 
ever  heard  in  her  life,  oh,  singing  sweet  as  any 
angel's  could  be,  sweet  as  a  silver  flute,  had 
turned  out  to  be  Jessie  Martin's,  and  she  must 
make  haste  and  come  with  her  own  delicious 
voice  to  the  same  master.  And  Jessie  wrote  to 
Hester  that  there  might  be  mansions  in  heaven 
as  lovely  as  the  old  palace  up  in  the  Sicilian  hills 
where  Marnie  was  going  some  day  to  stay  with 
Lucia,  but  she  didn't  see  how  they  could  be 
lovelier.  And  Lucia  wrote  a  postscript  saying 
that  Hester  would  have  to  come  and  see, — 
which  shows  how  small  the  world  is,  and  that 
there  is  not  a  very  great  distance  in  reality  be- 
tween the  Gulf  of  Palermo  and  the  Bay  of  Pango 
Pango  on  the  other  side  of  the  earth. 


BILLY  AND  HIS  GRAND- 
MOTHER. 


BILLY  AND  HIS  GRANDMOTHER. 

O  OMETIMES,  in  one  or  other  of  the  vacations, 
^  Miss  Marks  took  Hester  home  with  her 
to  the  college  city  where  her  own  friends  lived ; 
and  it  was  there  that  she  made  friends  with 
Billy  McKilly  and  his  grandmother.  The  dear 
grandmother  used  to  tell  Hester  stories  of  her 
own  far-away  youth ;  and  in  return  Hester  told 
her  of  the  life  in  the  far-away  South  Sea  Islands. 
And  when  Billy  understood  that  Hester  had 
lived  where  palm-trees  grew,  that  her  father 
had  miles  of  cocoanut  trees,  that  she  was 
acquainted  with  beautiful  wild  peacocks,  and 
with  a  bat  whose  wings  opened  almost  wider 
than  he  could  stretch  his  arms,  then  she  seemed 
to  him  a  part  of  the  unknown  and  foreign 
regions  where  menageries  and  circuses  came 
from.  And  you  can  imagine  if  he  did  not 
10 


146  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

regard  her  with  favor  when  you  are  told  that 
there  was  nothing  in  the  world  that  seemed  to 
him  so  fine  as  a  circus. 

Billy  lived  in  that  part  of  the  town  known 
as  Library  Close.  And  although  there  was  a 
great  entertainment  of  wild  beasts  and  riders 
and  acrobats  coming  to  town,  it  seemed  to  him 
the  strangest  thing  that  the  fact  made  so  little 
impression  on  the  people  of  Library  Close,  with 
whom  apparently  the  world  went  on  as  if  a 
circus  were  no  more  than  a  fly  on  the  wall.  And 
such  a  circus,  too !  He  had  told  Hester  about  it, 
hoping  to  fire  her  imagination  to  a  point  that 
might  benefit  himself.  He  wanted  her  to  have 
the  great  pleasure  of  going ;  but  he  meant  to 
contrive  a  way  for  himself,  even  if  he  had  to 
crawl  under  the  tent.  But  he  preferred  to  go 
in  an  honorable  way,  and  to  that  end  he  was 
continually  running  in,  all  eagerness  and  per- 
spiration,—  the  dear  little  rosy  urchin,  —  to  tell 
his  grandmother  some  new  feature  of  the  bill- 
boards. And  here  it  was  the  very  day,  and  no 
one  had  said  a  word  to  him  or  to  Hester  about 
it! 


BILLY   AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  147 

"It's  the  tallest  giraffe  you  ever  saw.  It  is 
truly,  grandmother !  Its  neck  goes  'way  up  to 
the  top  of  the  bill  boards.  And  there 's  a  Bengal 
tiger,  and  a  Nafrican  lion  — " 

"  How  you  talk ! " 

"  And  a  white  peacock,  and  a  phoenix  —  " 

"  No ! " 

"  Yes  ;  there  's  the  picture  of  it  rising  from 
the  ashes.  And  it 's  —  it 's  quite  wonderful, 
grandmother.  And  there's  the  unicorn  — " 

"Pooh,  pooh!" 

"  Why,  grandmother,  it 's  on  the  bill !  I  saw 
it!" 

"  But  there  is  n't  any  such  animal." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  n't  an  animal.  Is  a  —  is  a  bird 
an  animal  ?  Do  you  suppose  Sindbad's  roc  was 
an  animal,  grandmother  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  grandmother  shortly,  snip- 
ping off  her  thread. 

"Well,  then,  the  unicorn  may  be  something 
like  that." 

"  Yes,"  said  his  grandmother,  "  exactly  like 
that." 

"I   don't   know,"  said   Billy,  looking  at  her 


148  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FPJENDS. 

wistfully.  "It  sounds  as  if  you  were  making 
fun.  But  there  it  is  in  the  picture,  the  lion  and 
the  unicorn  a-fighting  for  the  crown  —  " 

"My  darling  Billy,  my  dear  little  innocent," 
cried  grandmother,  fumbling  for  her  peppermints, 
"could  you  think  your  old  grandmother  made 
fun  of  you  ?  Why,  I  Ve  no  more  doubt  of  it 
than  nothing  at  all ! " 

"  Did  n't  you  ever  see  a  circus,  grandmother  ? 
Never  ? " 

"  No,  never.  They  did  n't  have  them  where 
I  lived." 

"  Why  —  what  —  what  sort  of  a  place  —  " 
with  some  diffidence,  and  a  look  of  wonder  in 
his  big  blue  eyes. 

"  Oh,  a  very  good  place  —  except  that  they 
did  n't  have  circuses  there." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Billy,  then,  with  infinite  compas- 
sion in  his  tone. 

"  And  when  I  grew  up  I  was  in  a  city.  And 
I  was  busy.  I  went  to  other  places.  I  was 
ignorant.  I  did  n't  know  a  circus  was  so  de- 
lightful." 

"  It  is  delightful.     Is  n't  it,  grandmother  ? " 


BILLY   AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  149 

"  Why,  you  tell  me  so.  That 's  a  big  pepper- 
mint. I  thought  of  you  when  I  sent  for  the 
heart-shaped  ones.  You  have  such  a  warm  little 
heart  of  your  own." 

"  I  wish  you  could  see  a  circus,  grandmother 
dear." 

"  I  Ve  no  doubt  I  should  enjoy  it,"  said  grand- 
mother, with  calmness. 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  would  ! " 

"  But  circuses  are  not  for  me." 

"  I  don't  see  why." 

"  Don't  see  why,"  with  less  calmness,  "  when 
I  can't  move  out  of  my  chair  all  day,  and  only 
look  at  the  world  from  that  little  balcony  half 
full  of  flower-boxes  ? " 

"  I  suppose  you  could  be  carried  in  the  hand- 
barrow,"  sa\d  Billy,  doubtfully. 

Grandmother  laughed.  "  Do  you  think  I  am 
like  the  girl  in  the  song  ? "  said  she.  And  then 
she  sang  in  her  sweet,  thin  old  voice, — 

"  No,  I  won't  be  a  nun, 
Oh,  I  won't  be  a  nun, 
I  am  so  fond  of  pleasure 
I  could  never  be  a  nun  !  " 


150  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"But  I  don't  want  you  to  be  a  nun,"  said 
Billy,  a  little  undetermined  regarding  her  mean- 
ing. "  I  only  want  you  to  go  to  the  circus." 

"  What  would  be  said  of  a  person  who  wanted 
to  see  a  circus  so  badly  she  had  to  be  carried  to 
it  in  a  barrow !  They  'd  take  her  for  another 
clown.  It  would  be  worse  than  the  old  woman 
on  her  white  horse  at  Banbury  Cross." 

"Did  that  mean  Queen  Elizabeth,  grand- 
mother ?  There  's  a  picture  of  her  in  my  history 
on  her  white  horse." 

"Dear  soul,  how  many  questions  you  do 
ask ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Billy,  when  he  had  satisfactorily 
tipped  a  thimble  on  the  end  of  his  nose,  "  you 
know  if  you  didn't  want  to  go  all  the  way  to 
the  tent  and  see  the  whole  Show,  part  of  it  comes 
out  in  the  streets,  and  you  could  see  that  if  you 
would  go  over  to  Capitol  Street." 

"  Why,  Billy  McKilly,  what  are  you  thinking 
of  ?  It 's  half  a  mile  !  I  do  wish  you  'd  let  my 
work-basket  alone." 

"  Well,  it 's  worth  going  a  whole  mile  to  see. 
Can't  I  have  that  thimble,  grandmother  ? " 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  151 

"That  thimble?  I  don't  know.  What  do 
you  want  it  for  ? " 

"  It 's  got  a  hole  in  it.  It  'd  make  an  elegant 
sinker,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  you  to  go  fishing.  I  'm 
afraid  you  '11  get  drowned.  No,  you  can't  have 
the  thimble." 

"As  if  I  was  a  girl !  Men  don't  get  drowned 
when  they  go  a  fishing.  I  '11  run  it  full  of  lead. 
Oh,  grandmother,  I  wish  you  could  go  to  the 
circus !  I  should  so  like  to  take  you  to  the 
circus !  I  should  like  to  hear  you  laugh  when 
the  clown  gets  the  whip  cracked  at  him.  It 
makes  your  heart  just  beat  when  you  see  the 
great  tent  swell  up  there,  and  the  sun  shine 
through  the  flag  on  top  of  it,  and  all  the  other 
tents  round  it.  You  don't  know,  you  don't  know 
what  it  means,  you  know  —  you  only  know  it's 
—  it 's  fine ! "  cried  Billy.  "  And  there 's  all  sorts 
of  a  crowd  outside,  and  men  hollering,  and  men 
asleep  in  the  grass  under  the  edge  of  the  tent  — 
they  've  been  up  all  night  loading  and  unloading, 
and  driving  stakes,  and  stretching  canvas.  And 
when  you  go  inside,  it  seems  as  if  the  roof  was 


152  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

a  ground-glass  shade,  you  know  ;  and  the  smell 
of  the  grass  is  just  the  sweetest  smell,  and  there 's 
crowds  and  crowds  of  faces,  and  it 's  warm,  and 
there 's  lemonade,  pink  lemonade.  And  they 
come  riding  in.  Oh,  it 's  splendid  !  the  knights 
and  ladies  dressed  in  gold  cloth  —  and  the  clown 
—  he  bets  he  can  do  what  the  others  do,  and 
makes  a  mess  of  it,  and  he  winks  at  you  and 
puts  his  finger  through  the  paper  hoops  — " 

"  He  's  a  sort  of  bad,  silly  boy  grown  up,  I 
suppose,"  said  grandmother. 

"  I  don't  know.  Sometimes  he  makes  believe 
he 's  astonished  at  the  others,  and  then  all  of  a 
sudden  he  turns  a  somerset  over  the  backs  of 
four  elephants  at  once  and  does  better  'n  all ! 
And  oh,  you  are  so  pleased,  and  you  clap  and 
holler  like  everything  !  And  then  there  's  the 
beautiful  lady  in  short  dresses  dancing  on  horse- 
back —  I  suppose  she 's  a  lady.  But  perhaps —  " 

"  She  's  a  fairy  ? " 

"  There  ain't  any  such  thing,  grandmother  !  I 
should  think  you  thought  I  was  a  little  boy ! " 

"  Dear  sakes,  no  ! " 

"And  there's   the  flying   trapeze,  too,"  Billy 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GEANDMOTHER.  153 

resumed,  "if  you  don't  shut  your  eyes.  And 
there  's  a  boy  rides  round  the  ring  standing  on 
one  foot  on  a  horse  without  a  saddle,  going  lick- 
ety-split,  and  the  hand  plays  every  minute,  and 
the  ring-master — oh,  he's  a  daisy!" 

"What  does  he  do?  Yes,  that's  a  darning- 
needle,  and  that 's  a  mattress  needle,  and  this  is 
a  common  needle,  and  you  may  thread  it  for  me. 
Why,  Billy  McKilly,  are  you  left-handed  ? " 

"No.  But  —  you  see —  Oh,  he  cracks  his 
whip,  and  he  says,  'This  way,  Mr.  Merryman,' 
and  they  all  mind  him  like  a  row  of  bricks.  I  'd 
like  to  be  that  boy  hanging  by  his  chin  on  the 
flying  trapeze.  I'd  be  scared  —  but  I'd  like  to 
do  it.  I  'd  like  to  be  the  clown,  too,"  said  Billy, 
his  eyes  at  all  sorts  of  angles  with  the  needle's 
eye. 

"  You  put  me  in  mind  of  Nick  Bottom.  There, 
give  it  to  me.  I'd  be  ashamed  if  I  couldn't 
thread  a  needle." 

"  Was  he  a  clown  ?  So  would  I  if  I  was  a  girl. 
It 's  just  the  best  fun  being  a  clown  —  " 

"I've  heard  that  sometimes  clowns  are  very 
melancholy  people,  Billy." 


154  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FHIENDS. 

"Oh,  they  couldn't  be!  Why,  they're  made 
to  make  folks  laugh.  They're  just  as  happy  — 
they  always  have  a  trick  horse  to  sell,  and  his 
name  is  January.  I  wish  my  father  'd  buy  him 
—  You  'd  see  a  clown  riding  on  a  donkey,  wrong 
end  first,  in  the  parade,  if  you  could  go  down  to 
Capitol  Street.  I  wish  you  could  go,  grand- 
mother," twisting  the  scissors  round  his  thumb 
till  they  were  in  danger  of  flying  off  and  putting 
an  end  to  seeing  altogether. 

"Well,  yes,  so  do  I.  But  I  can't,  my  dear 
little  son.  So  let  us  talk  of  something  else. 
And  don't  bite  that  wax  any  more,  if  you  please ; 
it  is  n't  made  to  chew." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  ever  saw  a  parade,  or  you 
wouldn't  want  to  talk  of  something  else,"  said 
Billy,  reproachfully. 

"No,  I  never  did.  Now,  Billy,  that's  a  glove 
needle,  and  that's  a  bodkin.  Put  them  right 
back  where  you  took  them  from ! " 

"  Never  —  saw  —  a  —  circus  —  parade !  Oh, 
grandmother ! "  half  under  his  breath,  as  if  the 
neglect  in  her  education  must  not  be  spoken  of 
too  loudly.  "  Then  it 's  all  the  more  reason  you 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  155 

should  see  this,"  he  exclaimed,  dropping  the  wax 
and  the  scissors  and  the  bodkin.  "Why,  it's 
the  biggest  circus  in  the  whole  world !  And  it 's 
the  biggest  parade  in  America.  It's  the  great 
Biblical  and  Scrip-tural  show  —  " 

"Is  it,  truly?  A  real  holy  show?  Now,  if 
you  '11  kindly  pick  up  the  things  you  dropped  — " 

"Yes,  I  will  —  I  will.  But  I  wish  you  could 
see  that  parade.  Why,  there's  a  troop  of 
elephants  —  " 

"  A  troop  of  elephants  !  I  should  want  to  run 
the  first  thing,  and  I  could  n't.  So,  you  see,  it 's 
just  as  well  as  it  is." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,  they  're  tame  as  cats.  They 
let  you  ride  on  their  backs  —  " 

"  I  should  look  pretty,  riding  on  their  backs ! " 

"But,  grandmother — somehow — you  seem — " 

"Very  disappointing.  Well,  my  poor,  dear 
little  man,  it 's  a  shame !  If  a  boy  can't  have 
sympathy  from  his  grandmother,  what  is  she 
good  for  ?  Yes,  I  should  like  to  see  the  parade," 
drawing  him  to  her,  kissing  his  chubby  browu 
fist,  and  smoothing  back  the  rebellious  locks 
from  Billy's  honest  brow.  "  And  as  that  is  im- 
possible, you  tell  me  all  about  it." 


156  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"Well,"  said  Billy,  squaring  himself  for  the 
effort,  "  Johnny  Carey  saw  it  over  in  Sunderland, 
and  he  says  it's  over  a  mile  long,  —  almost. 
And  after  the  elephants  there 's  a  lot  of  camels 
with  red  saddle-cloths,  and  they  look  patient  — 
that's  their  necks — and  they  look  cross — that's 
their  faces  —  and  they  have  door-mats,  sort  of,  on 
their  shoulders,  and  an  Arab  riding  every  one,  a 
real  Arab,  grandmother,  with  his  long  pipe  in  his 
mouth.  And  there 's  a  girl  driving  forty  horses 
-  yes,  there  is,  Johnny  says  so !  My !  And 
there's  a  team  with  a  pair  of  lions  chained  by 
the  feet,  and  standing  by  each  lion  is  another 
girL  Should  n't  you  think  they  'd  be  afraid  ? 
I  should  n't.  But  they 're  girls,  you  know.  I'd 
like  to  do  —  And  then,"  said  Billy,  catching  him- 
self in  season,  "  there  's  ladies  and  gentlemen  on 
horseback ;  and  there 's  the  great  gold  chariots 
with  brass  bands  in  them ;  and  there 's  cages  and 
cages  of  animals,  all  locked  up,  except  the  polar 
bear,  and  he 's  sitting  on  a  block  of  ice,  and  the 
,  men  turn  buckets  of  water  over  him  when  they 
come  to  a  hydrant  —  he's  homesick,  too.  And 
there 's  the  —  the  proprietor,  they  call  him  —  the 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  157 

master  of  it  all,  in  a  buggy.  And  it's  a  great 
deal,  you  know,  just  to  see  him  — " 

"I  should  like  to  see  him,"  admitted  grand- 
mother. 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  would  ! "  said  Billy.  "  And 
there 's  a  lot  of  Shetland  ponies,  the  teentiest 
tauntiest  little  things,  with  the  little  boy  and 
girl  each  riding  one  of  them,  and  everybody  cries 
out  at  that,  you  know,  and  cheers  them  —  I  'd  like 
to  be  —  And  there 's  the  donkeys,"  said  Billy, 
catching  himself  again,  "  and  the  trick  mules  and 
the  clowns,  and  the  —  oh,  I  forgot  the  best  of  all! 
There 's  a  whole  regiment  —  I  guess —  of  soldiers 
riding  in  red  coats,  with  little  flags  on  the  tips  of 
their  spears  —  the  Boston  lancers  — 

"  Oh,  no,  not  in  a  circus !  Not  in  that  sort  of 
a  circus." 

"Well,  then,  the  Cadets." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  can't  be ! " 

"  Why  not  ?J' 

"  Why  not,  indeed,"  said  grandmother. 

"  Well,  then,  maybe  it 's  zouaves.  But  at  any 
rate,  grandmother,  they're  soldiers,  they  truly 
are,  real  live  men  who  've  been  in  war  —  " 


158  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  Fine  work  for  them  now,  then." 

"  Yes,  is  n't  it  ? "  said  the  innocent  Billy.  "  And, 
grandmother,  don't  you  think  I  might  stay  out  of 
school,  just  this  morning  ? " 

"And  is  that  what  it  all  means  ?  Oh,  Billy ! " 
said  grandmother.  "  Well,  then,  you  dear  rogue, 
yes,  you  may.  Eun  along !  I  '11  make  it  right 
with  your  father." 

"  Grandmother,"  said  Billy,  getting  her  head  in 
his  arms  and  hugging  it  to  the  ruin  of  her  cap, 
"  you  are  the  dearest  dear !  You  're  a  great  deal 
better  than  Johnny  Carey's  grandmother.  She 's 
awful  strict  with  Johnny.  She  makes  him  learn 
a  verse  of  a  Psalm  every  time  he  turns  'round. 
She  made  him  go  to  bed  without  his  supper  the 
night  he  ran  away  to  Sunderland,  and  they  had 
raspberry  jam  that  night,  too.  I  'm  glad  you  're 
my  grandmother.  You  're  the  best  grandmother 
I  ever  had.  So  ! "  And  having  finished  hugging 
her,  and  having  finished,  too,  the  difficult  task  of 
setting  her  work-basket  to  rights,  Billy  went  to 
the  pretty  balcony,  with  its  flowers,  and  stepped 
out,  and  craned  his  neck  up  and  down  the  street 
to  ascertain  if  by  any  chance  one  sitting  there 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  159 

could  see  the  great  parade  as  it  passed  out  of 
Capitol  Street  into  the  square. 

"It  makes  a  fellow  feel  mean,"  said  Billy, 
"  to  go  off  and  have  a  good  time  and  leave  you 
here." 

"  My  dear  little  Billy,"  said  grandmother,  "  I 
am  having  a  good  time  in  thinking  of  your 
having  a  good  time." 

"And  you  never  saw  one,  either,"  repeated 
Billy,  like  the  buzzing  of  an  inextinguishable 
fly.  "I  say,  it's  too  bad!  And  you  don't 
know  how  splendid  the  chariots  are  —  and  the 
music  —  and  the  clown  —  oh,  he  is  so  funny  — 
sometimes  he  gets  real  mad  with  the  boys  — 
If  the  parade  was  going  to  pass  through  this 
street  —  " 

"  Pass  through  this  street !  Why,  of  course 
not.  It  is  n't  even  a  street ! " 

Billy  looked  up  and  down.  No,  it  was  n't  even 
a  street.  It  was  a  sort  of  green  court  or  close. 
But  it  had  an  avenue  for  carriages  in  the  middle 
of  its  velvet  turf  that  led  through  a  broad  gate- 
way into  the  great  square  of  the  library  build- 
ings and  out  to  the  street  beyond.  Only  elegant 


160  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

carriages  now  and  then  rolled  along  the  avenue. 
Even  the  grocers'  carts  with  their  daring  and 
dexterous  Jehus  drove  up  through  back  alleys 
to  the  houses.  This  was  the  abode  of  aristo- 
cratic stillness  and  narrow  seclusion.  No  ;  no 
parades  ever  passed  this  way.  It  was  n't  even 
a  street. 

"  Grandmother,"  said  Billy,  "  you  promise  me 
to  have  your  chair  wheeled  out  into  this  balcony, 
and  be  sitting  here  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  then, 
at  any  rate,  perhaps  —  you  '11  hear  the  music." 

"  Oh,  it  would  n't  be  worth  while,"  said  his 
grandmother.  "It  would  only  be  an  aggra- 
vation." 

"  Then  you  do  wish  you  could  see  it !  I  knew, 
I  knew  you  did  ! "  trying  to  walk  around  her 
chair  on  his  hands  now. 

"  Billy  !  Billy  !  You  '11  get  the  blood  in  your 
head  ! " 

"  Well,  you  promise  me,"  as  he  came  up  smil- 
ing and  very  red.  "  I  '11  feel  a  great  deal  easier, 
grandmother,  if  I  think  at  any  rate  you  can  hear 
the  music.  You  know  they  '11  likely  play  '  Boom- 
de-ay.'  Gimme  a  nickel,  grandmother.  Oh,  I 


BILLY  AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  161 

say,  I  wish  all  the  fellows  had  such  a  grand- 
mother as  you ! " 

There  was  a  twinkle,  a  strange  delighted 
twinkle,  in  Billy's  eye  as  he  went  out  singing 
the  last  chaste  verselet  that  had  caught  his 
ready  ear,  with  its  burden  concerning  a  bicycle 
built  for  two.  But  once  outside  the  house  silence 
took  the  place  of  song,  and  Billy  was  running, 
almost  as  fast  as  the  bicycle  could  go,  to  the  Belt 
line  of  cars,  which  would  carry  him  outside  the 
town. 

It  was  a  resolute  urchin  that,  a  half-hour  later, 
was  knocked  about  from  one  employd  to  another 
in  that  busy  universe  of  the  circus-field,  which 
seemed  to  him  the  great  world  itself,  where  the 
gayly  caparisoned  horses  were  pawing,  and  the  ele- 
phants were  stepping  ponderously  to  the  front,  — 
an  urchin  that  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer, 
and  who,  at  the  sight  of  the  kneeling  and  grunt- 
ing camels  and  the  strange  Arabs  mounting 
them,  all  at  once  made  a  dart  from  the  clutches 
of  the  last  man  who  had  caught  him  by  the 
collar  to  kick  him  out,  and  landed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Great  Man  himself, 
n 


162  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  Oh,  sir !  "  he  cried,  panting,  almost  breathless, 
climbing  up  the  steps  of  the  victoria.  "  I  want 
to  tell  you  about  my  grandmother  ! " 

"My  dear  child,"  said  the  Proprietor  of  the 
Greatest  Show  on  Earth,  "I  have  no  time  to 
hear  about  your  grandmother." 

"But  you  must,"  cried  Billy.  "You  must 
hear !  She  's  my  grandmother.  She 's  —  " 

"Now,  my  little  lad,  get  right  down  from 
there !  The  horses  might  start  and  break  your 
neck—" 

"  I  will  —  just  as  soon  —  " 

"  Now  !  Don't  you  see  I  'm  very  busy  ?  Don't 
you  see  the  Greatest  Show  on  Earth  is  just  start- 
ing ?  Here,  Charley,  take  this  boy  away ! " 

But  before  Charley  or  any  one  else  could  inter- 
'fere,  Billy  had  climbed  into  the  victoria  itself. 
"  Now  I  sha'n't  fall,"  said  he. 

"  What  sort  of  a  persistent  little  rascal  are 
you  ? "  exclaimed  the  proprietor. 

"Oh,  give  the  kid  a  chance,"  said  Charley, 
while  Billy  stared,  too  intent  to  wonder  whether 
the  familiarity  were  profanity,  or  whether  this 
was  a  bigger  man  than  the  Proprietor. 


BILLY  AND   HIS  GRANDMOTHER.  J63 

"Well,  now,"  said  the  smooth,  kind  voice  of 
the  burly  gentleman  on  the  seat,  "tell  me  in 
three  words  what  it  is  you  want?" 

"I  want  the  show  — the  Greatest  Show  on 
Earth  —  "  said  Billy,  with  quick  perspicacity. 

"  That 's  right,  my  boy." 

"  To  pass  by  my  grandmother's  window." 

"  Is  she  on  the  route  ? " 

"  No.  Well,  no,  she  is  n't.  Not  —  not  quite, 
you  know.  She 's  —  about  —  a  mile  —  only  just 
a  mile  away.  In  Library  Close.  And  she  can't 
come  here.  She  can't  get  out  of  her  chair,  you 
know.  And  she  can't  see  it  pass,"  his  words 
coming  like  a  torrent,  and  his  eyes  as  big  as  the 
lens  in  the  white  ostrich's  eye.  "  And  she  never 
saw  a  parade  in  her  life  —  truly  —  just  think ! " 

"  You  don't  mean  so  ? "  said  the  gentleman. 

"In  this  enlightened  age,"  said  Charley,  as  he 
gave  his  long  whip  a  flourish  that  brought  the 
snapper  under  his  thumb. 

"  And  she 's  awful  good,"  Billy's  voice  rushed 
on.  "She's  the  best  grandmother  there  ever 
was.  Say  1  Did  n't  you  ever  have  a  grand- 
mother I  Then  you  know  how  it  is  yourself! 


164  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

And  I  'd  give  'most  anything  to  have  her  see  the 
parade  —  only  I  don't  suppose  I  've  got  anything 
you  want,"  with  harrowing  melancholy  for  half 
a  moment.  "At  any  rate,"  in  a  quick  inspira- 
tion, "  I  'd  do  some  work  for  you  !  I  'd  help  fix 
the  tents,  I  'd  feed  the  animals  —  Say !  It  must 
be  great  fun  travelling  with  them.  Ain't  it? 
Just  like  folks  in  the  Bible,  when  Isaac's  people 
went  for  Eebecca !  A  boy  could  pass  the  pea- 
nuts —  But  my  grandmother,"  remembering 
himself,  "  she  has  to  sit  in  her  chair  all  day,  and 
she  only  sees  the  things  that  come  to  her,  and 
I  'd  like  to  have  her  see  the  parade  first-rate,  and 
you  look  as  if  you  would,  too  —  " 

"Tut,  tut,  tut!"  said  the  Proprietor.  "It's 
out  of  the  question.  Here,  Charley,  take  the 
little  fellow  —  " 

"  I  know  it 's  a  great  deal  to  ask,"  cried  Billy, 
quickly  slipping  to  the  other  side  of  the  victoria, 
out  of  Charley's  reach.  "  And  that 's  why  I  ask 
it.  You  like  to  do  a  great  deal.  And  you  give 
pleasure  to  lots  of  people.  But  there  won't  be 
one  of  them  take  so  much  pleasure  in  this  parade 
as  my  grandmother  would.  For  she  knows  all 


BILLY   AND   HIS   GRANDMOTHER.  165 

about  camels  and  elephants  and  the  Bible  and 
soldiers  and  wild  beasts  and  you.  She  said  she 
would  like  to  see  you.  Don't  you  think  you 
could  go  a  mile  out  of  your  way  for  once, 
to  give  my  poor  old  grandmother  such  a  chance  ? 
I  should  feel  so  mean  to  go  to  the  circus  and 
think  of  her  at  home,  and  I  do  so  want  her  to 
see  all  she  can  of  it  —  it's  so  hard  to  sit  there 
in  her  chair  all  day,  and  I've  heard  my  father 
say  she 's  sat  up  more  nights  with  sick  folks 
than  she  ever  was  in  bed,  and  she  always  has  a 
peppermint  for  a  fellow,  and  I  made  her  promise 
to  have  her  chair  wheeled  out  in  the  balcony  at 
eleven  o'clock,  but  I  did  n't  tell  her  I  was  going 
to  ask  you,  for  fear  she  might  be  disappointed, 
though  I  knew  you  would  if  you  could,  but  just 
to  hear  the  music,  and  she  promised,  and  oh, 
would  n't  she  be  surprised !  Perhaps,"  Billy 
bubbled  on,  "you  didn't  always  do  the  square 
thing  by  your  grandmother,  and  now  you  've  got 
a  chance  to  make  it  up  to  her  —  " 

"  Oh,  here,  here,  here  ! "  cried  the  Proprietor, 
breaking  the  spell  of  Billy's  glittering  eye.  "  Let 
us  stop  this  flood  of  eloquence  or  the  afternoon 


166  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

performance  will  be  late.  He 's  a  whole  show  and 
the  posters  himself  —  a  new  feature.  What's 
your  name,  boy  ?  Billy  McKilly  ?  Well,  Billy 
McKilly,  sit  right  down  here  by  me!  Every- 
thing ready,  Charley  ?  The  word  given  ?  Go 
ahead,  then  ! "  And  when  the  procession  moved 
down  the  road  and  wound  its  way  into  Capitol 
Street,  there  sat  Billy  with  the  Proprietor,  his 
blue  eyes  beaming  out  of  his  brown  face  with 
every  expression  of  awe,  amazement,  and  joy, 
leading  the  whole  business. 

Proud  moment !  Proud  Billy !  Oh,  proud, 
glad  Billy !  Proud  little  boys  along  the  way  who 
knew  Billy,  and  knew  him  for  one  of  themselves, 
Billy  at  that  eminence,  that  dizzy  pitch  of  great- 
ness !  They  hurrahed  for  the  Proprietor,  they 
hurrahed  for  the  Greatest  Show  on  Earth,  they 
hurrahed  for  Billy.  Billy  could  hardly  contain 
himself  for  bliss.  It  is  true  at  moments  he 
longed  to  stand  up  and  look  behind  him ;  that 
now  and  then  he  doubted  if  he  would  not  rather 
be  one  of  the  hurrahing  boys  on  the  sidewalk 
that  could  see  the  parade.  But  to  be  the  head 
of  the  procession,  beside  the  great  Proprietor, 


BILLY  AND   HIS  GRANDMOTHER.  167 

leading  the  parade  —  that  was  compensation  for 
all  loss.  Suddenly  he  cried  out  to  his  compan- 
ion :  "  That 's  the  street !  That 's  it !  That  leads 
right  into  the  Close  and  through  the  Library 
grounds,  and  it's  all  asphalt — if  you  only,  only 
would  turn  up  that  way  ! " 

"Turn  up  that  way,  Charley,"  said  the  Pro- 
prietor. And  the  victoria  turned  up  toward 
Library  Close,  and  all  the  great  elephants  came 
trampling  after ;  and  the  Arabs  on  their  camels 
turned  up,  too ;  and  the  lady  with  the  lions,  and 
the  clowns,  and  the  little  Shetlands  —  Billy  did 
stand  up.  It  was  no  use.  He  fairly  danced  with 
delight.  "Oh!"  he  cried.  "You  are  a  good 
man  !  I  think  my  grandmother  would  like  to 
kiss  you ! " 

And  what  did  all  the  fine  secluded  people  of 
the  Close  think,  when  through  the  wide-open 
gates  poured  a  rabble  of  little  boys,  of  rude  men 
smoking  pipes,  of  women  carrying  their  babies, 
of  idle  girls  with  their  soiled  finery,  chewing  gum 
and  chaffing  their  young  men,  a  rabble  of  all 
sorts  and  conditions,  the  dust  of  an  army  rising 
with  them,  and  the  carriage  drawn  by  eight 


168  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

matched,  matchless  horses,  holding  a  bland  old 
gentleman  and  an  excited  little  boy,  followed  by 
the  grand  parade  of  the  Greatest  Show  on  Earth  ? 
Far  too  fine  to  go  to  the  circus  themselves,  was 
it  possible  that  the  circus  had  come  to  them, 
that  the  great  Orient  itself,  the  islands  of  the 
sea,  and  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  were 
rendering  tribute  to  the  Close  ? 

"  There  she  is  !  There  she  is ! "  suddenly  cried 
the  little  boy,  pointing  with  both  hands  at  a 
flowery  balcony  where  sat  a  pale,  fair  old  lady, 
with  her  maid  behind  her,  her  face  like  a  flower 
among  the  flowers  —  wondering,  smiling,  a  little 
frightened,  and  all  at  once  surveying  Billy  with 
amazement.  "  Oh,  grandmother ! "  shrieked 
Billy.  "You  said  you  would  like  to  see  him, 
and  here  he  is ! " 

The  Proprietor  stood  up  in  the  carriage,  turned 
and  lifted  his  hat,  and  bowed.  The  pale  and  fair 
old  lady  gazed  bewilderedly,  but  bowed  in  return ; 
and  then  she  smiled  and  bowed  again.  The 
maid  bowed,  too.  And  then  —  whisper  it  please, 
on  account  of  the  Close  people  —  what  less  could 
grandmother  do  than  break  off  a  bit  of  the  clove- 


BILLY  AND   HIS  GRANDMOTHER.  169 

gillyflower  and  give  it  to  the  maid,  who  tossed  it 
down  !  The  Proprietor  caught  it  and  put  it  in 
his  button-hole,  and  lifted  his  hat  in  stately  fash- 
ion once  more.  "  And,  grandmother,"  Billy  was 
crying,  "  I  want  you  to  look !  He 's  brought  it 
around  on  purpose  for  you  to  see.  It's  the 
Greatest  Show  on  Earth !  They  're  real  soldiers 
—  they  're  Uhlans !  That 's  a  real  girl  driving 
the  forty  horses.  You  just  look  at  the  ele- 
phants !  That  near  one  has  killed  ten  men ! 
And  you  ought  to  have  heard  the  camels  when 
the  Arabs  got  on  them.  They  truly  are  Arabs, 
they  live  in  the  oasises  of  the  desert  in  tents  —  he 
says  so.  And  don't  you  be  afraid  of  that  lion, 
grandmother  dear !  I  ain't.  He  has  n't  a  tooth 
in  his  head,  and  — " 

And  the  victoria  passed  on,  and  the  elephants 
went  trampling  a  cloud  of  dust  about  their 
majesty,  and  a  band  burst  forth  anew  in  a  blare 
of  a  glorious  tune,  and  Billy  McKilly  was  out 
of  hearing.  But  I  heard  that  the  people  of 
Library  Close  went  to  the  circus  that  afternoon 
in  a  body. 


REMADE. 


REMADE. 

TT  was  really  to  old  Dr.  Derwent  that  Hester 
-*-  owed  one  of  her  best  friends,  although  she 
never  saw  the  doctor. 

He  had  been  called  once  to  a  case,  far  up 
among  the  hills,  a  long  day's  journey,  or  a  night's, 
rather,  and  having  finished  all  that  there  was 
to  do  he  was  refreshing  himself  by  a  stroll 
through  the  domain  of  the  little  mountain  vil- 
lage, and  letting  the  cool  winds,  that  had  in  them 
a  breath  of  the  snow  left  in  the  crannies  of  the 
hills,  blow  out  of  his  mind  and  heart  the  memory 
of  the  suffering  he  had  lately  witnessed,  when 
he  came,  unobserved  by  them,  upon  a  group 
of  children  playing  on  the  threshing-floor  of  an 
open  barn,  with  such  singing  and  chirruping  of 
gay  young  voices  as  if  a  whole  choir  of  birds 
had  been  let  loose  at  once. 


174  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

The  doctor  watched  these  blithe  little  crea- 
tures for  a  long  while,  too  tired  just  then  to  join 
them,  as  he  would  have  liked  to  do,  and  attract- 
ing no  attention  from  them.  But  at  last  the 
object  to  which  his  glances  most  frequently 
returned  was  a  little  girl  sitting  apart  in  a  corner 
by  herself,  and  playing,  all  alone,  with  an  ab- 
straction and  concentration  worthy  of  better  dolls. 
For  hers  were  made  of  the  clumps  of  grass  turned 
backward  from  their  roots,  which  roots,  with 
their  fibres  combed  out  by  a  pin,  served  for  well- 
wigged  heads.  The  little  maid  had  dressed  these 
model  dolls  out  in  various  green  array;  one  of 
them  had  a  little  pink  mushroom  secured  to  her 
for  an  umbrella;  and  she  was  just  pinning  a 
maple-leaf  shawlwise  upon  another,  when  the 
doctor  addressed  her,  and  asked  her  name. 

"May  Eoberts,  sir,"  she  answered  him,  still 
adjusting  the  troublesome  maple-leaf,  and  with- 
out pausing  to  glance  up. 

"  Oh,  May,  is  it  you  ? "  said  the  doctor,  in  a 
way  he  had  of  beginning  a  new  acquaintance 
with  a  child  as  if  it  were  an  old  one,  in  order 
that  he  might  amuse  himself  somewhat  by 


REMADE.  175 

watching  the  children  puzzled  thus  into  a  fancy 
that  they  ought  to  have  remembered  him. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  looking  up  this  time 
so  that  he  observed,  with  a  sudden  start — for 
he  had  only  seen  before  a  pretty  pink  and  white 
cheek,  shaded  by  chestnut  curls  —  that  her  large 
brown  eyes  were  badly  crossed,  and  her  mouth 
was  disfigured,  in  spite  of  its  little  teeth,  as 
white  and  even  as  grains  of  rice,  by  a  hare-lip. 
"  Yes,  sir ;  but "  —  with  hesitation  —  "I  'm  afraid 
I  don't  know  who  you  are." 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  the  doctor,  sitting 
down  on  a  stump  opposite  her ;  "  I  'm  the  friend 
of  all  little  children,  and  that 's  enough,  is  n't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  May  again,  and  after  a  second 
glance,  returning  to  her  dolls. 

"  And  is  this  your  family  ? "  asked  the  doctor, 
taking  up  the  lady  with  the  pink  parasol.  "  Quite 
ingenious,  I  declare." 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  the  monosyllabic 
little  damsel,  again. 

"  And  how  is  it  that  you  had  rather  play  with 
them  than  be  romping  with  the  other  children 
in  the  barn  there  ? " 


176  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

The  child  moved  a  little  uncomfortably,  and 
parted  her  lips  as  if  she  would  repeat  her  stereo- 
typed reply,  but  found  it  inapplicable,  and  said 
nothing;  only  the  curls  drooped  a  little  lower 
as  the  head  was  bent  above  the  doll,  and,  looking 
at  her  still  intently,  the  doctor,  with  some  sur- 
prise, thought  he  saw  a  bright  drop  like  a  tear 
fall  on  the  green  maple-leaf,  and  glitter  there  as 
morning-dew  would  glitter. 

The  doctor  was  a  kind-hearted  man  in  the 
main,  but  was  not  peculiarly  sensitive  to  the 
sight  of  pain;  he  knew  that  pain  was  not 
altogether  evil,  but  often  a  blessing  in  disguise. 
Sometimes  he  pleased  himself,  through  long  habit 
perhaps,  with  probing  other  people's  emotions. 

"  I  should  think,"  said  he,  then,  "  it  would  be 
far  pleasanter  to  hunt  the  slipper  there  on  the 
threshing-floor  than  to  sit  here  and  dress  dolls 
out  of  roots  of  grass." 

"No,"  said  the  child,  moving  uneasily  again, 
but  looking  up  at  last  quite  as  if  she  had  made 
up  her  mind  to  change  the  conversation  in  spite 
of  her  timidity,  and  drawing  a  quick  breath 
while  she  added :  "  I  play  they  are  fairies,  sir,  — 


EEMADE.  177 

the  little  green  people  that  live  down  in  the 
ground,  and  make  the  juices  that  feed  the  fruit 
and  flowers,  and  come  up  by  moonlight  and 
dance  in  the  shadow.  I  Ve  never  seen  them,  but 
Jack  Spar  has  this  many  a  time;  and  I  leave 
them  under  the  tree  here  every  sunset,  and  they 
tell  me  what  they  did  after  the  moon  shone ;  —  I 
play  they  do,  you  know.  And  I  tell  them  I  am 
sure  they  danced  all  night,  they  are  so  wilted 
and  tired  and  faded  out  in  the  morning,  you  see. 
And  once  it  rained  in  the  night,  and  then  I  made 
believe  that  one  of  them  had  really  been  back  in 
the  ground,  and  got  caught  on  the  way  up, 
because  she  had  taken  root  again  and  was  grow- 
ing just  as  if  nothing  had  happened  —  " 

How  long  she  would  have  run  on  with  these 
disclosures  the  doctor  did  not  know,  but  fortu- 
nately he  saw  through  her  innocent  art  as  she 
prattled,  and  showed  that  he  was  not  to  be  di- 
verted, for,  in  truth,  he  fancied  that  he  saw  here 
a  sore  spot  that  needed  medicining,  —  needed  it 
badly,  since  it  was  so  sore  it  might  not  be 
touched. 

"But  you  can't  play  at  fairies  all  the  time," 
12 


178  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

said  he,  interrupting  her.  "  What  else  do  you  do 
up  here  in  the  hills,  pray  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  learn  my  lessons,"  said  she,  carelessly, 
"  and  I  can  read  and  write  and  cipher  now ;  and 
I  hunt  the  eggs  and  find  the  nests  the  hens  steal 
away  down  in  the  meadows  when  we  don't  want 
them  to  set.  And  mother  says  she  could  n't  do 
without  me,  though  — "  Here  she  paused,  but 
added  instantly :  "  And  I  know  how  to  milk,  and 
I  find  the  flowers,  the  jacks-in-the-pulpit,  and 
lady's-slipper,  and  the  two  little  bells,  and  —  " 

"Ah,"  said  the  doctor,  suddenly,  and  looking 
at  the  other  children,  "here  are  gay  doings  in 
the  barn.  Come,  let  us  run  along  and  join  them. 
You  will  leave  off  growing,  my  little  lass,  sitting 
here  so  long." 

"I  had  rather  not,"  answered  the  troubled 
child,  though  at  the  same  time  casting  a  wistful 
glance  toward  the  place,  unless  the  doctor  was 
mistaken  in  the  direction  of  the  glance. 

"  Why  so  ? "  said  he,  merrily.  "  They  are  hav- 
ing fine  fun.  See  that  rosy-cheeked  chap  —  his 
head  is  as  curly  as  a  basket  of  grapes  —  that  just 
kissed  the  pink-pinafored  little  woman.  Ah,  it's 


REMADE.  179 

worth  while  now  to  be  a  boy  and  play  hunt-the- 
slipper.  Come,  run  along  with  me,  and  get  your 
share." 

"I  will  go  with  you,  sir.  But  Lawrence 
would  n't  kiss  me,  you  know." 

"  Lawrence  ?  That  is  his  name  ?  A  handsome 
fellow." 

"  Yes,  sir.     Lawrence  Bell." 

"  Not  kiss  you  ?    And  why  not,  pray  ? " 

"  Oh,  because  I  look  two  ways  for  a  Sunday, 
and  have  three  lips  for  kissing!"  cried  out  the 
child,  vehemently,  using  the  terms  she  had  heard 
for  her  deformities,  able  to  bear  no  more,  and 
bursting  into  tears. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  doctor,  then,  reach- 
ing forward,  and  drawing  her  up  between  his 
knees,  "  is  that  what  troubles  you  ? " 

But  the  child's  sobs  choked  her,  and  he  waited 
a  moment  for  her  to  quiet  herself. 

"  Do  you  really  care  about  these  trifles  ? "  he 
asked  then,  as  her  trouble  subsided  a  little. 

"About  —  about  —  " 

"  Your  eyes  and  your  lips  ? " 

"Do    I    care?"   she    suddenly  exclaimed,   as 


180  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

tragically  as  though  she  had  worn  the  cothurnus 
for  years,  or  had  been  born  with  it.  "Do  I 
care  ? "  swallowing  all  her  sobs.  "  Oh,  I  would 
die  to-morrow,  if  I  could  be  —  like  Agnes  there 

—  in  the  pink  tier — only  for  to-day ! " 

"  My  dear  little  girl,  there  is  no  need  of  dying, 
for,  as  to  being  what  you  wish,  there  is  nothing 
easier  —  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !    I  was  born  so !     Unless  they 

—  make  me  over  again  —  it  can't  be !  oh,  it  can't 
be ! "     And  then  fresh  tears. 

"  And  why  do  you  care  ? "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Why  ? "  surprise  stopping  the  sobs, —  to  think 
any  one  could  ask  her  such  a  thing!  "Why? 
Because  it  makes  a  monster  of  me  —  Lawrence 
says  so  —  like  the  little  pink  pig  that  had  his 
ears  on  one  side ! "  And  she  was  crying  like  a 
shower  again. 

"  Lawrence  is  n't  so  good-looking  as  I  thought 
he  was,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Oh,  yes,  he  is,"  said  little  May.  "But  it 
was  when  the  little  pig  first  came ;  and  —  some- 
how —  it  said  itself  —  because  it  was  true  —  that 
about  being  a  monster  ! " 


REMADE.  181 

"  And  is  that  so  very  bad  ? " 

"  Oh,  it  is  dreadful ! "  she  cried,  letting  out  all 
her  soul  to  this  inquisitor.  "  No  one  wants  you ; 
no  one  has  you  round;  no  one  thinks  it's  any 
matter  how  you  go ;  they  put  you  last  when  sew- 
ing-circle comes;  they  say  things  that  hurt!  I 
don't  believe  God  himself  can  like  to  look  at 
you!" 

"That  is  very  wicked,  May.  God  loves  to 
look  at  all  His  creatures  that  are  good." 

"But  a  monster  is  not  good!  He  wouldn't 
ever  have  pronounced  a  monster  good  the  way  he 
did  Adam  and  Eve  in  Genesis." 

"It  is  wrong  that  you  should  have  been 
allowed  to  look  on  this  thing  so,  my  child. 
Can  you  imagine  that  a  mete  accident  of  the 
body  —  " 

"  Accident  ?    But  God  made  me  — 

"  Well,  May,"  said  the  doctor  then,  seeing  that 
it  was  impossible  to  treat  so  deeply  rooted  a 
trouble  in  the  nature  of  this  imaginative  and 
sensitive  child  as  if  it  were  only  a  mere  surface- 
weed,  "  I  can  prove  to  you  that  it  is  nothing  but 
an  accident,  by  undoing  it." 


182  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

«Un—  " 

"  Undoing  it.  Just  as  you  do  a  piece  of  pool 
sewing  work.  How  should  you  like  that?  To 
have  your  eyes  made  straight,  and  your  lip  joined 
together.  It  can  be  done — and  done  so  that 
one  would  never  know  you  till  you  spoke." 

"  Lik.e  Agnes  ? "  exclaimed  the  child,  catching 
her  breath,  and  turning  with  the  tears  still  cours- 
ing one  another  down  her  face.  "Two  great 
brown  eyes  looking  right  before  her?  And  a 
mouth  —  Oh,  it  could  n't  be  ! " 

"  Two  great  brown  eyes  looking  straight  before 
you,  and  a  mouth  not  quite  like  Agnes's  mouth, 
to  be  sure,  because  there  will  always  be  a  scar 
there,  but  that  will  not  matter  much  in  compari- 
son. And  it  will  be  a  very  good  mouth." 

The  child  grew  white  as  death,  and  fell  to 
trembling  as  she  had  to  crying  just  before.  "  Oh, 
it  couldn't  be,"  she  gasped;  "you're  only  telling 
me  a  fairy-story  now,  I  know;  I  know  it 
couldn't!"  And  the  next  moment  the  blood 
flushed  up  her  face  again  with  the  wild  glimpse 
of  hope,  bathing  forehead  and  temple,  and  she 
sprang  forward  with  her  arms  around  the  doc- 


REMADE.  183 

tor's  neck,  and  her  wet  and  burning  face  hid- 
den under  his  ear.  "Oh,  perhaps  you  are  one 
of  the  angels  that  came  to  visit  Abraham 
in  his  tent,"  she  whispered.  "Oh,  you  must 
be  one,  you  must,  if  you  can  make  me  over 
again  I " 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  the  doctor,  laughing  a  little 
then,  and  seeing  how  real  all  her  Sunday-school 
instructions  were  to  the  child.  And  taking  her 
on  his  knee,  he  rested  her  head  on  his  shoulder, 
smoothing  her  hair  with  his  hand,  and  quieting 
her  excitement  as  best  he  might.  "  No,  indeed," 
said  he,  "only  Dr.  Derwent,  of  Derwentwater, 
whose  business  such  things  as  these  operations 
are.  If  I  had  the  proper  instruments  with 
me,  and  could  delay  any  longer  from  my  sick 
people  at  home,  I  would  do  the  work  to-day. 
But  I  have  n't.  And  so  we  must  wait  a  little 
while,  and  see  what  can  be  done." 

"  Oh,  I  would  n't  mind  that  —  waiting  a  little 
while  —  if  it  could  really  just  be  done  at  all," 
said  the  child,  still  shaken  with  the  reactionary 
sobs  that  came  every  now  and  then  in  spite  of 
her  efforts. 


184  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"  But  there  is  something  else  you  may  mind, 
I  ought  to  tell  you.  Are  you  afraid  of  pain  ?  " 

"  Pain  ?  I  don't  know  —  like  that  when  they 
say  the  things  that  —  " 

"  Hurt  ?     No,  the  other  sort  of  pain." 

"Like  the  toothache  and  the  growing-pain. 
Oh,  no;  I  don't  believe  I  am." 

"  That 's  good,  then,  so  far.  For  there  is  pain 
to  be  borne  when  we  are  made  over  again.  So  I 
warn  you  to  make  up  your  mind  for  it.  Not 
very  bad  pain,  but  still  more  than  one  bears 
easily." 

"  Oh,  I  will  not  mind  it,  sir,  at  all.  I  will 
hold  just  as  still !" 

"  That  is  a  good  child.  Now  we  '11  keep  this 
for  a  secret  between  us.  And  the  next  time  the 
drovers,  or  any  one  else,  go  down  from  here  to 
Derwent water,  do  you  make  up  a  little  bundle, 
and  come  along  with  them.  They  '11  give  you 
a  seat.  And  here,  on  this  card,  is  the  number 
of  the  house  where  I  live,  so  that  you  sha'n't 
forget,  and  if  you  show  it  to  any  one  you  will  be 
led  there  at  once,  and  there  I  will  keep  you  for 
a  few  weeks,  till  everything  is  over,  and  all  well 


REMADE,  185 

again,  and  send  you  back,  when  a  good  chance 
comes,  so  changed  that  your  own  mother 
would  n't  know  you  !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ? 
Now  I  must  go.  Good-by."  And  if  Lawrence 
would  n't  kiss  her,  the  doctor  did,  and  then  set 
her  down  on  the  old  vine-covered  stump,  pal- 
pitating with  pleasure.  And  when  the  flush  of 
it  was  over,  she  sat  there  looking  at  the  silver 
horns  of  the  mountains  melting  away  into  the 
azure  sky  above,  and  across  the  paradise  of  green 
valleys  at  her  feet,  seeing  all  the  beauty  under  a 
perfect  aureole  of  glory,  as  if  the  world  had  been 
made  over  again  so  as  to  be  ready  for  her  when 
she  came  back  remade  from  Derwentwater. 

It  seemed,  in  fact,  from  that  hour,  another 
world  to  the  child,  —  the  child  no  longer  to  be 
pitied,  but  full  of  a  gladness  hitherto  unknown 
to  her,  full  of  the  happy  expectation  of  a  miracle. 
Up  in  the  gorge  between  the  mountains  the  mist 
was  rolling  in  a  scarlet  flame,  sunset  pouring 
bodily  through  the  rift  as  she  had  never  seen 
it  do  before ;  down  in  the  intervale  there  were 
rainbows  lying  in  the  grass,  —  it  must  be  for 
the  first  time,  she  said  to  herself ;  the  birds  were 


186  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

singing  their  vespers  with  a  music  that  her  ear 
had  never  caught  till  now.  As  she  still  sat  there 
on  the  stump,  long  after  the  other  children  had  all 
gone  to  their  homes,  the  sky  seemed  to  open 
over  her,  one  by  one  the  stars  came  out,  the  soft 
evening  wind  came  cool  as  the  breath  of  great 
invisible  blossoms ;  and  wrought  up  to  such  a 
pitch  of  exaltation  was  the  child,  that  now  she 
half  fancied,  so  strangely  vast  and  beautiful  did 
the  advancing  evening  seem,  that  the  end  of  all 
things  was  at  hand,  and  that  that  change  was 
the  one  meant  by  the  angel  in  disguise  who  had 
called  himself  Dr.  Derwent,  of  Derwentwater. 
But  when  the  moon  rose,  and  she  saw  the  placid 
cattle  all  browsing  quietly  beneath  her,  and 
heard  her  mother  call  her  from  the  door,  she 
rose  and  went  in,  brought  back  to  actual  life, 
and  persuaded  that  the  doctor  was  no  vision 
and  that  Derwentwater  was  no  chimera. 

It  was  the  next  morning  that  May  was  seen 
to  be  very  busily  employed  with  Jack  Spar,  the 
weather-beaten  old  sailor,  who,  having  grown 
weary  of  ploughing  the  wave,  had  wandered  up  the 
hills,  and  taken  to  ploughing  the  sod  under  Mr. 


KEMADE.  187 

Roberts's  direction,  and  the  anchors,  crosses,  stars 
and  stripes  tattooed  upon  whose  breast  and  arms 
had  been  unfailing  sources  of  delight  and  wonder 
to  all  the  children  far  and  near.  Upon  inquiry, 
it  was  found  that  Jack  had  concocted  a  prepa- 
ration of  the  juice  of  herbs  which  he  thought 
would  answer  all  necessary  purposes,  and  had 
indoctrinated  little  May  into  the  art  of  decorat- 
ing herself  like  a  Fiji  princess,  and  that  May, 
who  had  stoutly  refused  to  submit  to  the  exer- 
cise at  Jack's  own  longing  hands,  had  very  neatly 
and  indelibly  printed  around  her  wrist  the  letters 
of  her  name,  having,  with  quite  remarkable  fore- 
sight, left  room  for  the  addition  of  any  short 
surname,  such  as  Lawrence's  surname  was,  for 
instance,  in  case  it  should  ever  be  desirable  to 
put  one  there. 

"  May ! "  cried  her  exasperated  mother.  "  What 
do  you  mean,  you  naughty  child  ?  What  was 
the  need  of  making  yourself  more  of  a  fright? 
Do  you  know  that  you  have  disfigured  yourself 
for  the  rest  of  your  days  ?  But  there,  what 
odds  does  it  make  ? "  she  cried,  after  her  quick 
angry  fashion,  as  she  remembered  the  disfigure- 


188  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

ment  already  existing  in  the  child,  and  pushing 
her  away  from  her.  But  with  the  next  thought, 
as  her  way  was,  she  had  caught  her  back  again 
impulsively,  and  was  kissing  the  poor  eyes  and 
mouth,  while  still  murmuring  her  reproaches 
over  the  wrist. 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  that,"  cried  May,  freeing 
herself  and  facing  her  mother,  "I  don't  mind 
that  at  all.  But  I  'm  going  away  to  be  made 
over  again,  and  I  marked  my  wrist  so  that  you 
would  be  sure  to  know  me,  for  I  am,  I  am  really, 
going  to  be  made  over,  so  that  my  own  mother 
would  n't  know  me  ! "  And  the  child  danced 
away,  singing  some  tirra-lirra  like  a  bird,  and  as 
she  had  never  been  seen  or  heard  to  do  since 
she  came  to  the  knowledge  of  her  misfortunes ; 
and  her  mother,  altogether  ignorant  of  the  mean- 
ing of  her  words,  watched  in  a  new-born  and 
superstitious  fear,  lest  she  might  truly  be  going 
away  to  be  made  over  into  something  not  of  this 
earth.  Still  the  cross-eyed  and  hare-lipped  little 
May  was  not  of  so  heavenly  a  type  of  childhood 
that  her  mother  had  any  need  of  fear  in  her 
regard;  she  was  only  a  stout-hearted,  eager  little 


REMADE.  189 

body,  who  meant  certainly  to  conquer  her  por- 
tion of  the  world  to  her  own  uses. 

It  was  almost  a  month  after  his  brief  run  into 
the  mountains,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  his  other 
and  multiplied  cares,  the  doctor  had  nearly  forgot- 
ten the  little  patient  whom  he  had  found  there, 
when  one  bright  morning  a  load  of  shingles 
stopped  before  his  gate,  and,  after  a  long  and 
laborious  study  of  the  card  in  her  hand,  and  a 
comparison  of  it  with  the  sign  upon  his  door- 
post, and  with  that  upon  the  street-corner,  a 
small,  sun-bonneted  lass  clambered  down  the 
side  of  the  great  team,  and  pulled  the  doctor's 
bell,  and,  happening  to  open  the  door  himself, 
he  recognized  and  welcomed  the  sad  and  staid 
little  mountain-maid,  who  looked,  as  she  had  in- 
formed him  once,  both  ways  for  a  Sunday.  But 
sad  she  was  no  longer;  her  face,  on  the  contrary, 
was  radiant  with  expectant  happiness,  if  not 
with  beauty.  She  took  it  for  granted  that,  of 
course,  the  doctor  remembered  all  about  her,  and 
she  forgot  for  a  time  to  open  her  lips,  while  her 
glance  ran  up  and  down  his  office,  her  eye  rest- 
ing with  particular  attention  upon  a  case  of  shin- 


190  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

ing  instruments  that  happened  to  be  open  there. 
But  she  never  paused  to  look  about  her  when 
he  led  her  up  to  take  a  luncheon,  did  not  give 
a  glance  at  fresco  or  picture  or  mirror  or  statue, 
never  noticed  that  her  clumsy  little  shoe  sank 
in  the  depth  of  the  velvet  pile  upon  the  floor 
as  it  did  in  the  moss  on  the  mountain  hillside 
at  home,  nor  heeded  the  lace  curtains  like  the 
film  of  hoar  frost  that  every  morning  overlay  the 
intervale ;  and,  with  only  a  vague  and  general 
idea  of  a  palace  in  her  mind,  she  seated  herself 
on  the  satin  damask  of  a  chair  as  carelessly  as 
if  it  had  been  the  old  vine-covered  stump  where, 
when  she  first  glanced  up,  she  saw  the  doctor 
sitting  on  that  eventful  day.  She  had  only 
thought  and  observation  for  a  single  thing  ;  what 
were  pictures  and  palaces  to  her  just  then  ?  "  If 
you  could,  as  well  as  not,  I  should  like  to  be 
made  over,  sir,  to-day,"  she  said  at  last.  And 
in  such  a  state  of  excitement  was  she,  that  the 
doctor  thought  it  best,  upon  the  whole,  to  make 
no  more  delay,  and  conducted  her  down  to  his 
office  again,  and  called  his  wife,  rather  than  his 
assistant,  to  be  present.  And  it  was  impossible 


REMADE.  191 

for  Dr.  Derwent  to  give  any  stronger  evidence 
of  his  interest  in  a  case  than  that. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  when  he  had  placed  the  child 
as  he  wished  her  to  remain,  "you  must  not  be 
frightened  if  I  bind  you,  for  — " 

"  No,  sir,"  she  answered  firmly ;  "  there  is  no 
need.  I  will  keep  still  without.  I  will ! " 

"  But  if  you  should  start  or  move  you  might 
do  an  injury  that  never  could  be  remedied.  And 
it  takes  a  great  strength  of  will ;  I  don't  know 
how  much  you  may  have ;  and  I  am  responsible 
to  your  parents,  you  know ;  so  you  had  better  let 
me  secure  —  " 

"No,  no!  I  must,  I  must  be  loose,  be  free! 
Please  don't,  please.  I  will  not  stir  —  oh,  cer- 
tainly I  will  not  stir  ! "  she  cried,  half  under  her 
breath. 

And  at  that  the  strong-minded,  strong-souled 
lady  who  was  the  doctor's  helpmeet  flashed  a 
glance  toward  her  husband,  signifiying  that  she 
would  take  the  child  and  hold  her  firmly. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  doctor.  And  the  lady 
lifted  the  child  on  her  lap,  and  laid  her  head 
upon  her  breast,  and  put  her  hand  upon  the 


192  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

cheek,  and  held  it  there,  and  kissed  her,  and  the 
doctor  lifted  his  glittering  little  scissors,  and  in 
an  instant  it  was  over,  and  the  eyes  had  been 
made  straight,  and  were  bandaged  into  the  sooth- 
ing dark. 

"  That  is  over ! "  said  he,  cheerily,  while  the 
child  cried  out  with  glad  amazement.  "Now, 
not  any  more  to-day,"  and  she  was  put  away  to 
sleep  in  a  bed  that  seemed  like  a  cloud  to  her,  and 
was  tended  there,  she  half  believed,  by  angels. 

Then,  after  a  few  mornings,  the  doctor  stole 
softly  into  the  room,  before  the  child  had  waked 
from  her  sweet  night's  sleep,  with  a  vial  and 
a  sponge  in  his  hand,  and  the  ever-blessed  ether 
swiftly  drowsing  all  her  sense,  he  cut  and  clipped, 
and  sewed  and  plastered,  and  the  lip  was  whole 
again.  "  Now,  I  expect  you  to  obey  me,  mind ! 
And  you  must  not  answer  me,  nor  speak  one 
word,"  said  the  doctor  then,  when  presently 
she  came  to  herself ;  and  he  slipped  the  bandage 
from  her  eyes,  and  left  them  bare  in  the  soft 
dimness  of  the  room  that  had  just  been  obscured 
for  them.  "And  now  I  will  tell  you,  because 
you  don't  know,"  said  he,  "  that  there  is  nothing 


REMADE.  193 

more  for  you  to  do,  except  to  take  your  gruel 
and  soup  through  this  tube,  and  get  well  as  fast 
as  you  can.  The  eyes  are  done,  and  the  lip  is 
doing — you  didn't  know  that  —  and  as  soon  as 
the  stitches  heal,  and  the  sight  adjusts  itself  so 
that  you  can  see  as  well  at  the  new  angle  as  you 
did  at  the  old  —  so  that  you  don't  see  two  things 
where  there  is  only  one,  I  mean — why,  then 
you  will  have  been  made  over!"  And  not 
dreaming  of  disobeying  him,  the  child  only 
clasped  her  hands,  and  gazed  up  at  him  as  if  she 
were  giving  thanks  and  adoration  to  a  living 
saint,  with  a  look  that  would  have  recompensed 
any  man  like  him  for  a  thousand  times  the 
effort,  and  she  sank  into  peaceful  and  delicious 
rest  again  with  the  look  still  like  a  glory  on 
her  face. 

But  at  home  in  the  mountains  there  was  no 
such  tranquillity  as  there  was  in  the  doctor's 
quiet  house.  May  had  been  missed  on  the  first 
day  of  her  departure,  which  she  had  taken 
rather  suddenly  on  hailing  a  team  of  shingles 
and  finding  it  was  destined  for  Derwentwater  — 
May  had  been  missed,  and  was  nowhere  to  be 

13 


194  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

found.  In  vain  the  house  and  farm  and  field 
and  grove  were  ransacked  for  her;  May  was 
lost,  the  place  was  in  alarm,  the  great  horn  was 
sounded,  and  the  neighbors  summoned  to  hunt 
the  hill.  May  was  lost  —  she  had  always  had 
a  habit  of  wandering  into  the  lonely  spots,  the 
other  children  teased  her  so;  she  might  even 
now  be  fallen  from  some  steep,  and  be  lying 
among  the  jagged  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the  preci- 
pices, or  she  might  have  stumbled  across  some 
wild  beast's  path,  for  there  were  both  panthers 
and  black  bears  in  the  hills,  and  have  been  rent 
asunder  before  she  was  so  much  as  missed  upon 
the  farm.  Every  one  thought  of  children  at 
home,  and  trembled  for  her.  Every  one  began  to 
remember  the  poor  thing's  few  gifts  and  graces. 
Every  one  forgot  her  naughty  tempers  and  little 
imperfections.  Sisters  and  brothers  and  playfel- 
lows, all  together,  recollected  the  cruel  word  or 
the  taunting  speech  that  had  been  so  easy  for 
them  to  utter  and  so  piercing  to  her  to  hear.  And 
it  was  only  as  Lawrence  threw  himself,  in  a 
flood  of  repentant  tears,  upon  the  ground,  that  he 
espied  a  bit  of  paper  there,  slipped  from  forgetful 


REMADE.  195 

old  Jack  Spar's  pocket,—  Jack  having  gone  up  the 
mountain  to  guide  a  traveller,  —  and  the  boy  ran 
with  it  to  May's  mother  in  a  joyful  haste  that 
made  wings  out  of  his  feet,  and  was  cried  over  for 
his  pains  till  he  felt  too  damp  to  be  comfortable. 

A  little  printed  note  the  bit  of  paper  was, 
daubed  with  one  or  two  unavoidable  blots  which 
had  been  smeared  off  with  the  finger,  but  quite 
well-spelled,  and  meritoriously  brief,  assuring 
them  that  she  hadn't  told  them  for  fear  they 
would  prevent  it,  but  she  had  gone  to  be 
made  over.  And  nowise  displeased,  on  the 
whole,  by  the  enforced  holiday  and  subsequent 
junketing,  the  neighbors  retired,  after  much  feast- 
ing and  a  little  subdued  frolicking  on  the  great 
threshing-floor ;  and  with  that  note  all  whom  it 
concerned  were  obliged  to  rest  contented  till  the 
farmers  who  had  carried  their  shingles  down  for 
sale  in  Derwentwater  came  back  and  reported 
the  passenger  their  team  had  had. 

May  was  safe  then,  the  Eobertses  found ; 
though  still  they  had  need  to  be  anxious  about 
her,  so  young  a  thing  in  a  great,  strange  town. 
And  by  and  by  a  letter  from  the  doctor  came  to 


196  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

reassure  them,  —  the  doctor  not  having  allowed 
himself  to  be  in  a  hurry  with  his  letter,  thinking 
that  people  who  made  a  child's  deformity  such 
a  burden  to  her,  or  who  suffered  it  to  be  made 
so  by  others,  would  meet  with  no  injury  from 
the  experience  of  a  bit  of  suspense  themselves. 
And  as  soon  thereafter  as  he  could  accomplish 
it,  which  was  not  however  under  a  month's 
time,  Mr.  Eoberts  reached  the  point  of  being 
about  to  start  to  fetch  the  little  wanderer  home. 
This  had  been  a  prodigious  conception  on  his 
part,  and  a  still  more  prodigious  thing  to  carry 
into  execution,  for  there  was  the  mowing- 
meadow  to  attend  to,  and  the  hay  to  be  spread 
again  on  the  mountain-meadow,  and  there  was 
the  whitewashing,  and  Brindle  and  Cherry  and 
Whiteface  had  their  young  calves,  and  then  the 
horse  was  lame,  and  there  were  a  pair  of  steers 
to  buy,  and  the  sheep  to  be  sheared,  and  some 
money  to  be  gotten  from  somewhere,  and  it 
might  have  taken  infinitely  less  time  and  talk 
and  worriment  to  create  a  world  than  it  did  to 
bring  Mr.  Eoberts  to  this  moment  in  which  he 
had  just  taken  his  seat  in  the  wagon  and  was 


REMADE.  197 

receiving  the  last  of  a  universe  of  messages, 
which  he  would  have  been  more  than  mortal  to 
remember,  and  which  he  was  painfully  conscious 
were  going  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  the  other, 
faring  no  better  than  the  petitions  to  take  care 
of  himself,  and  to  tie  up  his  throat  as  soon 
as  he  came  to  salt  water,  and  not  to  sit  in  a 
draught,  and  to  remember  his  white  pocket-hand- 
kerchief —  when  a  peddler's  cart,  with  its  bells 
ringing  gayly,  drove  up  the  road,  stopped  a 
minute,  set  down  a  little  girl,  and  went  on,  and 
the  little  girl  came  capering  in  at  the  open  gate, 
swinging  her  green  sunbonnet,  like  a  thing  pos- 
sessed, and  climbed,  without  a  word,  into  the 
wagon,  seizing  Mr.  Koberts  by  the  head  and 
hugging  him  a  hundred  times,  and  stopping  to 
look  at  him,  and  beginning  again,  and  then 
crying  out  rapturously :  "  Oh,  I  don't  believe  you 
know  me!  The  doctor  said  my  own  mother 
wouldn't  know  me,  but  he  did  n't  say  anything 
about  my  father!  It's  me!  And  if  you  don't 
believe  it  there's  my  name  on  my  wrist ! " 

"  As  I  live,  it 's  our  May ! "  cried  her  father. 
"May!  Little  May  — here,  stop  a  minute,  let 
me  see  !  Lovely ! " 


198  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"  Look  at  me ! "  she  cried  proudly,  standing 
back  as  they  all  made  a  rush  for  the  wagon. 
"  Look  at  me  —  eyes  straight  before  me  —  I 
looked  at  them  in  the  glass  myself.  And  they  're 
two  great  brown  beautiful  eyes,  the  doctor  said 
so.  And  my  mouth  —  only  two  lips  now  —  " 

"  Like  a  Cupid's  bow ! "  said  her  father,  snatch- 
ing her  up  and  kissing  them. 

But  though  May  came  by  herself,  Mr.  Roberts 
went  to  Derwentwater  all  the  same,  and  was  so 
pleased  with  his  visit  that  he  has  gone  there 
once  a  year  ever  since ;  the  fact  that  the  doctor 
would  take  no  money  for  his  work  making  the 
visit  a  necessity,  in  order,  as  he  tells  his  wife 
in  explanation  of  the  annual  excursion  with  the 
big  box  of  geese  and  turkeys,  that  they  may  pay 
their  debt  at  last,  if  not  by  fair  means,  then  by 
fouL  And  it  was  the  doctor  that  told  Mr.  Rob- 
erts so  good  a  girl  as  May  ought  to  be  sent  to 
the  best  school  in  the  world.  And  that  is  how 
she  went  to  St.  Marks  and  became  one  of 
Hester's  friends,  and  although  younger  than 
Hester,  yet  so  ambitious  a  scholar  as  sometimes 
to  be  Hester's  despair. 


THE  FOURTH  AT  MARCIA 
MEYER'S. 


THE  FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S. 

FT  was  lonely  for  Hester  in  the  long  vacation. 

*•  She  amused  herself  sewing  on  the  gallery, 
watering  her  flowers,  making  sweetmeats  over 
a  spirit-lamp  with  poor  Madame  Cherdidi,  who 
seldom  went  away  either.  And  taken  down  to 
the  kitchen  by  Miss  Marks  to  toss  up  desserts 
and  make  tea-cakes,  she  was  becoming  quite  a 
mistress  of  the  useful  arts. 

But  although  Miss  Marks  sometimes  went 
away  with  Hester  on  little  journeys,  just  now 
Hester  was  alone  with  madame  and  the  servants. 
And  she  grew  tired  of  sewing,  tired  of  rowing 
round  the  cove,  tired  of  her  books,  almost  tired  of 
writing  to  her  dear  father  far  off  in  the  South  Seas 
—  tired,  anyway,  of  writing  to  Bella  Brook,  hav- 
ing her  usual  lovely  summer  at  Mrs.  Tenterden's. 
The  only  excitement  of  her  days  was  walking  to 


202  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

the  post-office  for  her  letters.  And  she  spent 
herself  in  longing  to  see  her  father,  to  put  her 
hand  in  Miss  Marks's,  to  have  a  good  confidential 
hour  with  Marcia. 

She  was  sitting  on  the  high  stone  steps  in  the 
garden  one  morning,  her  guitar  across  her  knee, 
a  streamer  of  the  yet-blossoming  sweetbrier 
reaching  down  to  garland  her  dark  hair,  a  bird 
overhead  bubbling  forth  a  fearless  song  as  if 
Hester  were  only  a  part  of  the  garden  wall. 
Very  forlorn  indeed  a  moment  before,  all  at 
once  she  felt  as  if  something  had  happened,  — 
as  if  she  had  had  a  dream.  For  there  stood 
Marcia  in  the  path,  the  sun  shining  straight 
through  her  hazel  eyes  and  on  her  leonine 
locks. 

"  Oh,  you  dear  little  graven  image  ! "  she  cried. 
"You  look  as  if  you  hadn't  a  friend  in  the 
world  !  You  're  awfully  homesick  and  awfully 
lonesome,  and  wish  you  were  tumbling  with 
the  brown  babies  in  the  surf  of  Pango  Bay ! 
Don't  you,  now  ? " 

"  Oh,  Marcia  1 "  cried  Hester.  "  Is  it  really 
you?" 


203 

"  Aiid  no  less  "  said  Marcia.  "  Come  off  your 
perch." 

"  Oh,  Marcia,  you  said  you  would  n't  talk  any 
more  slang ! " 

"Slang?  When  you  really  are  perched  up 
there  ?  Well,  then,  condescend,  0  dark  daugh- 
ter of  the  South  Sea,  to  come  down  —  " 

But  the  dark  daughter  was  already  down,  and 
had  both  her  arms  round  Marcia's  neck. 

"  WTiat  do  you  think  ? "  cried  Marcia,  return- 
ing the  rapturous  embraces.  "  I  always  told  you 
St.  Marks  was  an  angel !  She  and  mamma  have 
arranged  that  you  're  to  spend  next  month  with 
me  at  home." 

"  Oh,  Marcia !    Oh,  Marcia  dear ! " 

"  Truly.  And  Miss  Persis  has  come  down 
with  me  to  fetch  you  back.  And  to-morrow's  the 
Fourth,  you  know.  And  papa  has  promised  us  a 
stack  of  fireworks  —  oh,  lots  of  them  !  —  blue-fire 
and  flower-pots  and  set  pieces,  the  flag,  and 
Washington.  I  like  the  fireworks,  but  it's  an 
awful  day  altogether,  for  John  and  Bert  and 
Helen  and  Agnes  are  so  patriotic  it  makes  you 
wish  there  was  n't  any  country." 


204  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"  Was  n't  any  country  ? " 

"  That  was  what  I  said,  Miss  Prim.  But  as 
you  have  so  many — " 

"I  have  only  one  country,  Marcia!  And  I 
hate  the  other  flags  flying  down  there  over  the 
bay  at  home !  And  when  I  see  ours,  like  a 
beautiful  cloud  in  the  sun,  blowing  so  soft  and 
slow  over  the  water,  I  love  it !  Oh,  I  love  it ! " 

"  Great  applause !  Well,  it  is  n't  the  Fourth 
yet,  Mr.  Speaker  —  I  mean  Miss.  And  you  run 
along  now,  and  throw  some  gowns  into  your 
trunk,  and  ask  the  madame  to  get  in  and  tread 
them  down,  if  you  can't." 

"  Oh,  Marcia,"  said  Hester,  laughing,  "  I  really 
will  be  quick  ! " 

"  I  don't  suppose  the  most  precise  little  packer 
under  the  sun  can  be  quick.  But  the  train  goes 
back  in  two  hours.  And  I  've  the  greatest  sur- 
prise for  you!  Now  I'm  going  to  take  Miss 
Persis  round  the  place,  and  introduce  her  to  dear 
old  Cherdidi,  and  let  her  see  how  much  worse  off 
she  could  be  than  teaching  the  little  Meyers." 

"  Oh,  she  could  n't ! "  said  Hester,  fervently. 

"It  is  such  engaging  frankness  that  endears 


THE   FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         205 

Miss  Hester  Stanley  to  her  schoolmates,"  said 
Marcia,  kissing  her.  "The  little  Meyers  don't 
mind." 

"  I  know  they  don't,"  said  Hester,  laughing  too. 

"I  mean,  don't  care.  Come,  hurry  up,  now 
you  Ve  hurried  down." 

And  Hester  hurried.  Not  so  much  for  the 
sake  of  the  Fourth  and  its  fireworks,  for  to  be 
with  Marcia  and  Eafe  was  festival  enough  for 
her.  And  presently  they  were  off.  And  at  the 
end  of  the  long  railway  ride  there  was  Charlotte 
Risley,  with  all  the  Meyer  children  —  at  least 
almost  all  —  in  a  hay-cart  trimmed  with  green 
boughs.  And  when  Hester  saw  them,  although 
she  knew  that  John  was  a  dreadful  example  for 
Bert,  and  that  Charlotte  was  sometimes  a  terror 
at  school,  she  felt  her  heart  warm,  as  if  loneli- 
ness and  vacancy  had  never  been,  and  she  had 
always  had  this  dear  little  rabble  about  her. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  Hester,"  whispered 
Helen,  slipping  her  hand  in  hers  when  they  were 
on  the  hay  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart.  "Eosy 
says  you're  her  friend.  But — " 

"Oh,  I  am  every  one's  friend,"  said  Hester, 


206  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

smiling,  with  her  great  dark  eyes  full  of  happi- 
ness. 

"It  is  so  good  of  you  to  come,  Hester  dear," 
Rosy  leaned  over  to  say. 

"  As  if  I  could  help  it ! "  cried  Hester,  gleefully. 

"  John  has  got  lots  of  torpedoes  for  you  to  fire, 
Hester,"  cried  Agnes. 

"  And  cannon-crackers,"  echoed  Mahel. 

"  You  need  n't  tell  all  you  know,"  said  John. 

"  And  I  've  got  some  Roman  candles  for  you, 
Hester,"  said  Bert. 

"So'vel,"  said  Tot. 

"You  can't  fire  a  Roman  candle,"  exclaimed 
Georgie. 

"  I  can,  too.     I  can  fire  anything." 

"Now  look  out,  or  I'll  fire  you  out  of  the 
cart ! "  cried  John,  dropping  the  pin-wheel  he 
was  fastening  on  the  bush  in  the  corner  of  the 
cart,  to  go  off  with  a  splutter. 

"  Oh,  you  have  fired  us  out ! "  cried  Marcia. 
"Stop,  James!  Stop!  Whoa,  I  say!" 

And  the  children  sprang  out  in  a  terror  lest 
the  hay  should  blaze. 

"  It  was  n't  lighted,"  said  John,  loftily. 


THE   FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         207 

"John,  you  were  forbidden  to  bring  any  of 
those  things  along,"  said  Miss  Persis.  "You  are 
not  to  be  trusted  with  children  in  muslin  frocks. 
There;  now  you  may  get  in  again.  All  but 
John.  He  may  walk  home." 

"  Then  I  will  walk,  too,"  said  Bert. 

"  And  I,"  said  Georgie,  not  to  be  outdone  by 
the  bigger  boys. 

"So  shall  I,"  said  Agnes,  who  was  Georgie's 
guardian  angel. 

"  Then  I  shall,  too,"  said  Mabel 

"  Perhaps  we  all  had  better  walk,"  said  Marcia, 
after  the  way  the  Meyers  had  of  hanging  together 
in  the  face  of  the  enemy. 

" I  sha'n't,"  said  Charlotte  Risley ;  "and  I  don't 
believe  Hester  will." 

"  It 's  a  pity,"  said  John,  "  if  people  can't  do  as 
they  please  on  the  Fourth  of  July ! " 

"  It  is  n't  the  Fourth  yet,"  said  Rosy. 

"The  Fourth  of  July  is  Independence  day, 
and  John  Adams  said  the  way  to  keep  it  was 
with  gunpowder  and  noise." 

"  I  wish  John  Adams  had  never  been  born ! " 
cried  Marcia. 


208  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"Marcia,"  said  Miss  Persis,  "I  thought  you 
were  going  to  help  me.  Get  into  the  cart  im- 
mediately now  —  all  but  John." 

And  soon  Mr.  John  was  left  trudging  behind 
in  the  sun  and  dust,  while  silence  and  melan- 
choly filled  the  hay-cart. 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  old  red  house, 
and  the  baby  Hester  had  toddled  out  to  meet  her 
little  godmother  Hester,  who  could  n't  kiss  her 
enough,  good  humor  was  restored.  Mrs.  Meyer 
asked  Miss  Persis  if  they  were  all  there,  and  Mr. 
Meyer  asked  if  she  had  not  better  count  them, 
and  Eafe  came  rolling  himself  along  in  his 
wheel-chair.  That  was  the  great  surprise  for 
Hester,  since  the  last  time  she  had  seen  him  was 
up  at  Old  Benbow,  when  he  could  help  himself 
but  very  little,  and  had  to  be  lifted  from  arm  to 
arm.  She  could  hardly  think  of  a  greater  joy 
than  this;  for  that  Eafe  should  be  well  again 
was  one  of  Hester's  fondest  dreams.  But  there 
was  not  much  time  for  dreaming  now. 

"Charlotte  is  going  to  have  a  party,"  said 
Marcia.  "  It  seems  to  me  you  ought  to  run 
home  now,  Charlotte  dear.  You  're  the  hostess. 


THE   FOURTH   AT  MARCIA   MEYER'S.          209 

All  the  Meyer  children  are  invited  over  to  Char- 
lotte's. And  they  have  to  go  and  wash  their 
faces  first,  you  know." 

This  was  necessary.  For  Charlotte's  aunt  was 
so  particular,  you  may  remember,  that  she  could 
not  keep  Charlotte  herself  at  home,  but  had  to 
send  her  away  to  school.  From  which  you  can 
imagine  that  in  dreary  vacations  it  was  gayety 
for  Charlotte  to  go  over  to  the  Meyers'  and  misery 
for  the  Meyers  to  go  over  to  Charlotte's,  where 
the  great  family  portraits  all  along  the  hall  half 
frightened  them,  where  the  shining  floors  were 
so  slippery  that  they  hardly  kept  their  balance, 
and  where  they  had  to  sit  in  a  stiff  row  and  hold 
their  tea-plates  carefully,  and  say  "  Yes,  'm  "  and 
"  No,  'm  " —  for  Miss  Kisley,  who  was  thought  to 
be  old-fashioned,  was  very  particular  about  the 
"  'm."  They  usually  had  a  reaction  after  one  of 
Charlotte's  tea-parties. 

Meanwhile,  with  John's  fatal  facility  for  get- 
ting into  mischief,  he  found  companions  on  the 
way,  and  did  not  reach  home  till  the  children 
were  trooping  up  the  green  from  the  party. 
And  then,  seeing  his  father  —  late  about  every- 
u 


210  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

thing  —  just  opening  and  assorting  the  box  of 
fireworks  that  the  expressman  had  left  a  little 
while  since  on  the  front  piazza,  he  slipped 
through  the  side  door,  that  he  might  whip  up- 
stairs and  be  in  bed  before  his  absence  should  be 
noted.  But  those  glad  voices  were  too  much  for 
the  little  scamp.  He  would  have  his  feu  de  joie, 
after  all.  He  rushed  for  one  of  the  serpent 
rockets  from  his  store,  and  lighted  and  sent  it 
writhing  and  hissing  down  the  green  to  greet 
the  home-comers.  And  crying  out  and  skipping 
here  and  there,  to  his  delight,  to  escape  the 
twisting,  flashing  thing,  they  looked  up  and  saw 
John's  face  in  the  light  grinning  like  a  gargoyle. 
But  in  a  second  that  face  was  transfixed  with 
horror.  For  there  was  a  wild  cry,  a  crack  and 
crash  and  roar  and  splutter,  and  blinding  flashes 
filled  his  eyes,  and  shrill  screams  rent  his  ears. 
He  heard  his  father's  voice  and  James's  in  the 
midst  of  the  uproar  that  seemed  to  go  on  unin- 
terruptedly, while  the  air  was  thick  with  the 
bursting  of  Roman  candles,  the  whizzing  of 
rockets  going  all  ways  at  once,  the  whirring 
of  wheels,  the  detonation  of  cannon-crackers, 


THE   FOUETH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         211 

dark  with  volumes  of  smoke  through  which 
went  up  flakes  of  flame,  and  foul  with  the  smell 
of  burned  gunpowder.  He  realized  in  an  instant 
that  some  spark  from  his  wicked  little  serpent 
rocket  had  flashed  into  the  heap  of  combustihles 
and  reached  a  grain  of  gunpowder  —  and  all  was 
done.  To-morrow  night's  fireworks  had  gone  off 
in  one  big  blaze  and  roar  —  and  it  was  fortunate 
if  that  was  all. 

James  had  the  hose  attached  to  the  hydrant, 
and  was  flooding  the  piazza.  The  explosions  were 
over  —  although  Mr.  Meyer  was  having  an  ex- 
plosion of  his  own.  The  fireworks  were  gone. 
All  the  pleasure  the  children  and  the  neighbors 
had  been  expecting  had  vanished  in  three  minutes. 
John  felt  as  if  there  were  no  heart  in  his  body, 
it  sank  so  —  not  altogether  from  fear,  but  with 
real  disappointment  for  the  other  children.  "  Oh, 
why  can't  I  be  good,  like  Eafe ! "  he  sighed  to 
himself.  And  he  crept  into  bed,  after  his  father 
had  made  him  a  visit,  sore  and  sorry,  and  wished 
there  had  never  been  a  pin-wheel  made. 

"  There,"  said  Marcia,  when  Hester  was  in  the 
little  bed  opposite  her  own,  "  that 's  a  very  fair 


212  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

beginning  for  our  sort  of  Fourth  of  July.  It 
does  n't  always  go  off  quite  so  fine  at  the  start. 
Mamma's  been  made  ill,  and  John  has  had  a 
whipping,  and  the  little  children  are  too  nervous 
to  sleep.  Was  n't  Eafe  beautiful,  trying  to  quiet 
them  when  his  own  nerves  were  all  on  edge  so  ? 
Now,  if  we  can  get  forty  winks  before  pandemo- 
nium sets  in,  we  may  have  strength  for  to-mor- 
row. I  don't  know  what  is  going  to  become  of 
John  —  " 

But  Hester  was  asleep  while  she  was  talking. 

The  town  clocks  had  been  answering  one 
another  with  three  strokes  of  their  silver  tongues 
when  Hester  was  waked  from  the  dream  of  an 
Indian  war-whoop  by  sounds  as  blood-curdling 
—  long  blasts  of  fish-horns  under  the  windows, 
and  reports  of  revolvers.  It  was  the  boys  — 
John's  boys  —  who  had  come  to  call  him  out,  it 
having  been  in  the  programme  that  he  was  to 
escape  by  way  of  the  roof  of  the  shed  and  meet 
them ;  and  as  he  had  not  done  so,  they  had  come 
to  demand  his  surrender  from  the  superior 
powers. 

"You   speak  to   them,  Hester,"  said   Marcia. 


THE   FOURTH   AT   MARCIA  MEYER'S.          213 

"They  all  know  me,  and  they  won't  mind  a 
word  I  say.  They'll  only  hoot  the  louder. 
And  they  '11  kill  mamma  if  they  stay." 

Hester  slipped  on  her  little  dressing-gown  and 
went  to  the  open  window.  She  felt  very  angry, 
and  the  late-rising  moon  shone  full  in  her  face, 
which  was  very  pale,  and  kindled  her  great  black 
eyes,  so  that  she  fairly  struck  the  surprised 
urchins  with  a  sort  of  awe. 

"  John's  mother  is  very  ill,"  she  said.  "  If  you 
don't  want  to  be  murderers,  you  will  go  away." 
And  the  poor  little  fellows,  terrified  at  the 
thought,  made  a  rush  across  the  green,  and  were 
gone,  to  fire  their  guns  and  burn  their  crackers 
under  other  innocent  windows. 

But  John  had  gone  with  them.  Twice  that 
night  Hester  had  to  repeat  this  performance 
with  parcels  of  strange  boys  who  came  along. 
And  she  felt  as  if  she  had  not  been  asleep  at  all 
when,  just  at  the  pink  of  dawn,  the  town  bells 
began  to  ring,  and  somewhere,  not  very  far  off, 
they  were  giving  a  salute  of  great  guns.  The 
reports  of  the  little  guns  and  the  crackling  of 
crackers  were  all  about  them,  and  Hester  found 


214  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

herself  waiting  feverishly  for  the  next  one ;  and 
she  fell  off  into  troubled  and  disordered  dreams, 
and  was  just  talking  with  a  fire-cracker  that 
stood  up  and  offered  her  a  hand  that  was  so 
warm  she  dropped  it,  and  opened  her  eyes 
wider,  to  find  the  sun  shining  full  across  her 
face. 

"  It 's  Fourth  of  July !  "  said  Marcia. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  tell  me ! "  sighed  Hester, 
stopping  her  ears  with  her  hands  at  the  noise  of 
a  roar  from  Bert  because  John  would  not  give 
him  the  torpedoes  and  things  he  couldn't  use 
himself  —  for  John  had  come  home  wounded  in 
both  hands  from  his  dark  foray,  and  was  in  bed 
for  the  day  at  least. 

"  It 's  always  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Meyer,  at 
breakfast.  "  If  you  anticipate  a  pleasure  unlaw- 
fully, you  spoil  it.  If  John  had  let  his  pin- 
wheels  alone  yesterday,  we  should  have  had  our 
fireworks." 

"  We  did,"  said  Georgie. 

"  We  should  have  had  them  in  quite  a  different 
manner,  and  without  making  your  mother  ilL 
Poor  John  !  It 's  lucky  it 's  his  fingers  ;  that  '11 


THE   FOURTH   AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         215 

keep  him  at  home,  and  be  the  means  of  saving 
his  eyes,  perhaps." 

"  And  it 's  too  bad,"  said  Helen.  « It's  Hester's 
first  Fourth  of  July." 

"  Her  first  gunpowder  Fourth,  you  mean,"  said 
Marcia. 

"  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  done  nothing  but 
smell  smoke  ever  since  last  night,"  said  Miss 
Persis. 

"  Why,  how  do  they  keep  the  Fourth  down  on 
your  islands,  Hester  ? " 

"They  don't  keep  it,"  said  Marcia.  "And  if 
they  did,  they  could  n't  do  anything  so  silly  and 
barbarous  as  we  do,  with  our  crackers  and  things. 
And  we  have  to  get  them  from  Eastern  barba- 
rians, anyway." 

"  That 's  just  because  you  're  a  girl ! "  said 
Bert. 

"  I  Ve  got  lots  of  torpedoes,"  said  Tot,  defiantly, 
"  and  I  mean  to  fire  them." 

"  Well,  you  're  only  a  boy,"  said  Marcia,  exas- 
peratingly.  "  It  does  n't  matter  what  a  boy  does 
till  he  drinks  his  milk  without  spilling  it.  For 
my  part,  I  wish  there  wasn't  any  such  day! 


216  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

The  ice-cream  at  dinner's  the  only  good  thing 
about  it.  Seems  to  me,  I  'm  smelling  smoke  all 
the  time  too,  Miss  Persis.  I  suppose  it's  the 
powder." 

"  Oh,  Marcia !"  cried  Hester.  "If  there  wasn't 
any  Fourth  of  July,  you  'd  be  no  better  off,  per- 
haps, than  one  of  the  island  women  down  there 
swimming  inside  the  reefs.  You  would  n't  know 
any  more.  You  'd  be  worshipping  an  idol !  Or 
you  'd  have  your  feet  squeezed  all  out  of  shape, 
like  the  Chinese  women,  so  that  you  could  only 
get  along  the  way  a  baby  does."  And  she 
stopped  to  kiss  the  baby  Hester,  lest  this  should 
have  hurt  her  feelings.  "You'd  be  working  in 
the  fields,  harnessed  with  a  dog,  maybe." 

"  Oh  dear,  dear,  don't  tell  me  any  more.  Take 
care,  Mabel!  There  you  go  all  over  my  clean 
gown ! " 

"  Well,  Hester,"  said  Mr.  Meyer,  when  it  was 
quiet  again,  "if  you  kept  the  Fourth  as  you 
chose,  what  would  you  do  ?  Another  cup,  Miss 
Persis,  please." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ! "  said  Hester. 

"  Well,  fancy." 


THE   FOUKTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         217 

"  I  think  —  yes  —  I  would  have  the  great 
guns  off  on  the  hill  and  echoing  out  at  sea." 

"  And  so  would  1 1 "  came  a  chorus. 

"And  the  bells,  you  know.  They  sound  so 
glad." 

"  Oh,  bells  always  do,"  said  Marcia. 

"But  why  more  glad  to-day  than  any  other 
day?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Hester,  "  because  they  say, '  Come 
here,  come  over  here,  all  you  poor  people.  Here 
are  fields  and  food  and  friends.' " 

"  And  they  say, '  Be  glad,  you  people  who  are 
here  now,  that  you  were  born  free  and  have  the 
chance  to  make  yourselves  all  that  human  beings 
may,'  "  said  Miss  Persis. 

"  And  they  say, '  Be  good  little  boys,  so  that 
you  can  grow  to  be  Presidents,' "  cried  Bert. 

"They  say,  'Down  with  Kings!  down  with 
thrones !  We  rang  when  they  drove  tyrants  over 
the  sea  the  way  St.  Patrick  drove  the  snakes  out 
of  Ireland,' "  said  Marcia. 

"They  say,  'Fire  your  crackers!  fire  your 
crackers!'"  cried  Georgie,  leaving  his  oatmeal, 
and  runniog  to  the  window  to  throw  out  the 


218  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

torpedo  that  was  in  the  way  of  burning  a  hole 
in  his  pocket. 

"  They  don't  say,  '  Ask  Miss  Persis  to  excuse 
you  first/  "  said  Marcia,  witheringly.  "  Oh,  I  do 
hate  the  smell  of  gunpowder  so!" 

"  I  don't,"  said  Bert.  "  And  don't  you  forget 
it!" 

"  And  after  the  bells,  Hester  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Meyer. 

"  We  might  go  up  to  Rafe's  sitting-room,  and 
have  him  read  the  Declaration  ;  and  then  have 
you  tell  us  about  the  day  they  signed  it,  sir. 
And  we  would  sing  the  songs." 

"  We  would  sing  this,"  cried  Marcia,  running 
into  the  next  room,  where  there  was  a  piano,  — 
all  the  children  joining  her  as  she  sang  the  "  Flag 
Song  "  to  the  tune  of  "  Yankee  Doodle  " :  — 


Out  upon  the  four  winds  blow, 

Tell  the  world  your  story; 
Thrice  in  heart's  blood  dipped  before 

They  called  your  name  Old  Glory ! 
Stream,  Old  Glory,  bear  your  stars 

High  among  the  seven  ; 
Stream  a  watch-fire  on  the  dark, 

And  make  a  sign  in  heaven ! 


THE   FOURTH   AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         219 

Mighty  harvests  gild  your  plains, 

Mighty  rivers  bear  them, 
Everywhere  you  fly  you  bid 

All  the  hungry  share  them; 
Blooms  the  wilderness  for  you, 

Plenty  follows  after, 
Underneath  your  shadow  go 

Peace  and  love  and  laughter. 

When  from  sky  to  sky  you  float, 

Far  in  wide  savannas, 
Vast  horizons  lost  in  light 

Answer  with  hosannas. 
Symbol  of  unmeasured  power, 

Blessed  promise  sealing, 
All  your  hills  are  hills  of  God, 

And  all  your  founts  are  healing! 

Still  to  those  the  wronged  of  earth 

Sanctuary  render ; 
For  hope  and  home  and  heaven  they  see 

Within  your  sacred  splendor! 
Stream,  Old  Glory,  bear  your  stars 

High  among  the  seven ; 
Stream  a  watch-fire  on  the  dark, 

And  make  a  sign  in  heaven ! 

"And  then,"  continued  Hester,  as  they  came 
back,  "  Miss  Persis  says  she  would  have  things 
in  the  town-hall,  plays  where  the  children  have 
parts  —  " 

"  Or  tableaux,"  said  Miss  Persis,  "  of  scenes  in 

history." 


220  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  And  bands  of  music  in  the  square,  and  all 
the  people  out  walking,"  said  Helen. 

"  And  ice-cream  free ! "  cried  Bert. 

"  And  lemonade !  "  cried  Agnes. 

"  And  a  great  dinner  in  a  tent,  or  else  all  go  off 
on  some  picnic  or  sail,"  said  Marcia. 

"  And  come  back  for  fireworks  at  night,"  said 
Hester. 

"And  come  back  for  fireworks  at  night,"  said 
Helen. 

"  And  not  a  speck  of  gunpowder  anywhere 
else,"  said  Marcia. 

"  I  would  n't  give  a  cent  for  such  a  Fourth  as 
that !  "  cried  Bert. 

"We  shouldn't  have  as  good  as  that  if  we 
moved  down  to  the  Texas  ranch  where  you  want 
to  go  so,  Bert,"  said  his  father. 

"  Oh,  papa ! "  cried  Marcia  arid  Helen  together. 

"  Oh,  we  may  have  to.  Letters,  Bridget  ? " 
as  the  maid  brought  in  the  mail.  "  One  for  you, 
Marcia ;  Miss  Persis ;  here 's  a  Eound  Table  epis- 
tle for  Lady  Kosy  ;  one  of  the  Shut-Ins  for  Kafe. 
H'm,  h'm,  h'm  —  they'll  keep.  What  were  we 
saying  ? " 


THE   FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         221 

"  Oh,  papa  !  "  cried  Marcia,  waving  her  letter. 
"  It 's  from  Bella  Brook !  And  Mrs.  Tenterden 
is  coming  down  the  coast  this  afternoon  in  her 
little  steam-yacht  to  take  us  all  to  see  the  fire- 
works along  the  shore  this  evening !  She  let 
Bella  choose  what  to  do,  and  Bella  chose  this. 
Oh,  is  n't  she  a  starter  !  We  're  all  invited.  Too 
bad  about  John  —  though  I  don't  know.  I  won- 
der if  I  Ve  a  clean  cambric  ?  Helen,  you  must 
wear  your  white  lawn — " 

"On  a  yacht?  I  shall  wear  my  dark  blue 
flannel." 

"  Well,  your  too,  too  solid  flesh  will  melt  then." 

This  was  joy  enough  for  the  day.  The  younger 
ones  promised  their  best  behavior  and  obedience 
to  Marcia  and  Charlotte  and  Hester  and  their 
father ;  it  was  well  understood  that  although 
John  must  stay  at  home  with  his  mother  and 
the  baby  and  Miss  Persis,  it  would  take  all  of 
these  to  keep  company  manners  among  the  little 
Meyers.  "  And  they  have  n't  any  other  man- 
ners, you  know,"  said  Marcia. 

Hester  proposed  to  stay  at  home  and  amuse 
John,  but  no  one  would  listen  to  that,  which 


222  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

John  thought  very  unfeeling.  And  after  spend- 
ing the  morning  watching  for  the  little  yacht 
which  was  not  due  till  three  or  four  in  the  after- 
noon, at  last  they  saw  it  float  in  over  the  bar 
like  a  bubble.  Then  while  they  waited  im- 
patiently, Mrs.  Tenterden  had  to  come  up  with 
Bella  to  call  on  Miss  Eisley,  whom  she  knew 
and  go  into  ecstasies  over  the  old  house,  and  the 
old  heirlooms,  and  the  shining  old  furniture,  and 
the  grim  old  portraits  that  were  Miss  Risley's 
pride  and  care. 

But  at  last  they  were  off,  the  little  Swan  put- 
ting her  nose  down  through  this  wave  and 
skimming  over  the  top  of  that,  so  that  it  was 
impossible  for  the  Meyer  children  to  restrain  the 
manifestation  of  their  delight,  which  was  very 
agreeable  to  Mrs.  Tenterden,  although  Charlotte 
and  Marcia  made  her  feel  that  they  were  digni- 
fied enough  for  all  the  rest.  Then  Hester,  with 
her  South  Sea  Island  remembrances,  was  an 
object  of  interest  to  Mrs.  Tenterden,  who  was 
always  on  the  outlook  for  something  novel.  And 
so  the  time  sped.  And  the  afternoon  changed 
into  a  sunset  that  the  sea  reflected  and  doubled, 


THE  FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.    223 

till  they  seemed  to  be  in  the  middle  of  a 
gorgeous  shell.  And  then  the  purple  twilight 
came,  and  the  evening  star  trembled  like  a  fall- 
ing drop  of  gold  and  looked  at  her  shadow  in  a 
long  broken  line  of  light  upon  the  waves ;  and 
suddenly  a  yellow  sun  seemed  to  burst  in  the 
top  of  the  sky  and  shed  a  shower  of  emerald  and 
sapphire  and  ruby  stars ;  and  the  dark  sea  re- 
peated them.  And  then  all  the  western  sky  was 
a  shifting  glory  of  long  curving  flights  and  rib- 
bons of  fire,  and  dances  of  shooting  stars,  and 
clusters  of  jewels  paling  to  sparks,  and  all 
painted  again  in  a  tangle  of  lustres  upon  the  sea, 
which  had  begun  to  be  a  little  rough  as  the 
Swan  headed  down  the  shore  for  home.  And 
Mrs.  Tenterden  said  it  was  so  charming  to  have 
all  this  without  the  noise  and  confusion  of  the 
land ;  and  the  young  gentlemen  were  initiating 
Mr.  Meyer  into  the  mysteries  of  yachting,  quite 
heedless  that  Mr.  Meyer  had  sailed  yachts  before 
they  were  born  ;  and  the  children  were  absorbed 
in  the  multitude  of  breaking  splendors,  and 
Hester  and  the  other  girls  were  in  a  hushed 
rapture  of  enjoyment.  And  so  they  came  into 


224  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

the  bay  —  a  great  good  fortune  that  no  one  was 
uncomfortable. 

For  the  wind  was  coming  up,  and  it  was  not 
such  smooth  sailing  as  before.  As  they  neared 
the  bar  of  the  river,  ifc  was  quite  exciting  sailing. 
It  was  very  exciting  sailing  to  Mr.  Meyer,  who 
stood  up  on  the  bow  and  watched  sharply  what 
Mrs.  Tenterden  had  said  was  some  set  piece  of  fire- 
works on  the  horizon  —  a  steady  glare  that  grew 
larger  and  redder  as  they  drew  nearer,  and  did 
not  burn  out,  as  such  fires  do,  but  now  and  again 
streamed  up  with  volumes  of  illumined  smoke. 

"  It  is  some  conflagration,"  said  Mrs.  Tenterden 
then.  "  Do  you  suppose  it  is  a  meeting-house  ? 
A  barn  full  of  hay  ?  Dear  me,  I  hope  it  is  not 
any  one's  house  and  home !  I  am  almost  sure 
it  is,  though.  Can  you  make  it  out,  Mr.  Meyer  ? " 
And  she  handed  him  the  glass. 

Mr.  Meyer  gave  a  long  and  steady  look.  He 
saw  a  mass  of  wallowing  flame  ;  he  saw  the  lofty 
elm-trees  illuminated  till  they  looked  like  foun- 
tains of  fiery  sparks ;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
if  the  Swan  did  not  go  faster  he  should  have  to 
swim  ashore  himself.  For  the  tide  was  running 


THE  FOURTH  AT  MARCIA  MEYER'S.    225 

strongly  over  the  bar,  and  the  wind  met  it  with 
a  great  cross-sea,  and  the  little  Swan,  on  the  top 
of  a  wave,  made  a  plunge,  and  dipped  her  beak 
into  a  sea  that  ran  to  swamp  her,  and  rose  and 
shook  as  if  she  were  tossing  off  the  foam,  and 
rolled  from  side  to  side,  and  diving,  with  her 
screw  out  of  the  water,  wriggled  like  a  worm  on 
a  pin,  as  Marcia  said ;  and  up  she  rose,  and  down 
she  plunged,  and  slipped  over  into  still  water. 
And  in  five  minutes  more  she  had  left  her  guests 
ashore,  and  was  on  her  way  back  between  the 
harbor  lights. 

There  was  a  great  turmoil  at  the  landing. 
Fire-bells  were  still  ringing,  and  cries  and  shouts 
still  rending  the  air.  But  Miss  Kisley  was  on  the 
spot.  "Oh,  Mr.  Meyer!"  she  cried.  "They're 
all  over  at  my  house !  And  all  in  bed  !  Every 
one  !  And  most  of  the  furniture  is  saved !  It 
was  a  spark  from  those  fireworks  last  night  that 
caught  under  the  piazza  and  crept  along  the 
sills,  smouldering  all  day.  Miss  Persis  kept  say- 
ing she  smelt  smoke.  But  they  're  all  safe,"  she 
said,  with  the  last  remnant  of  breath.  "  No  one 
is  hurt  at  all." 

15 


226  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  "  said  Mr.  Meyer. 

"  And  you  must  all  stay  with  me,"  said  Miss 
Eisley,  rising  to  heights  of  sacrifice,  "  till  you 
can  rebuild  the  place." 

"You  can't  rebuild  a  homestead,"  said  Mr. 
Meyer.  "  You  are  very  good,  Miss  Eisley.  We 
shall  be  glad  to  stay  till  we  find  some  spot  for 
the  rest  of  the  warm  weather.  But  this  settles 
it.  We  shall  go  to  Texas;  and  you  will  have 
to  come  down  to  the  ranch  for  a  return  of  your 
hospitality,"  he  said-;  while  Marcia  rushed  on 
like  a  tempest  to  find  her  mother  and  John  and 
the  baby,  leaving  Hester  and  Eafe  to  quiet  the 
sobs  of  the  rest  as  they  clustered,  half  bewildered, 
round  Eafe's  chair. 

The  little  Meyers  slept  late  the  next  morn- 
ing ;  and  dressing  them  in  what  came  first,  and 
impressing  the  fact  that  Miss  Eisley's  goodness 
must  be  met  with  goodness,  Marcia  sent  them 
all  over  to  play  in  the  ruins. 

"You  see,  it 's  just  as  I  say,  Hester,"  said  she. 
"  It 's  no  better  than  a  Gunpowder  Plot  the  way 
we  keep  Fourth  of  July.  Sometimes  we  burn 
up  a  city,  and  sometimes  only  a  house.  Oh,  the 


THE  FOURTH   AT,  MARCIA  MEYER'S.         227 

dear  old  house  ! "  cried  Marcia,  the  tears  running 
over  her  face.  "You'll  never  come  to  us  an- 
other Fourth  of  July,  Hester." 

"  Not  in  the  same  dear  old  house,  Marcia,"  said 
Hester.  "  But  it  is  n't  the  house,  you  know ;  it 's 
the  people  in  the  house.  And  I  should  love  you 
and  come  to  see  you  just  the  same  if  you  lived 
in  a  tent." 

"Oh,  Hester!  That's  just  the  greatest! 
What  do  you  think  ?  Of  all  the  strange  things 
in  this  strange  world  !  Papa  has  hired  a  couple 
of  big  tents,  and  he  's  going  to  pitch  them  over 
in  the  garden,  and  we  're  going  to  live  in  them 
there  till  he  looks  about  him,  and  makes 
up  his  mind  what  he  really  will  do.  Poor 
papa  ! " 

"  Oh,  Marcia,  how  lovely !  how  really  lovely  ! 
And  do  you  believe  I  can  stay,  too  ?  Are  you 
sure  I  won't  be  in  the  way  ?  It  will  be  just  one 
long  picnic  ! "  said  Hester. 

"Well,  I  suppose  it  will  be,"  said  Marcia. 
"Gypsy  fires  and  all  that.  It's  well  to  have 
something  good,  anyway,  out  of  our  Fourth. 
There  come  Charlotte,  and  Eafe  with  the  baby 


228  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

in  his  chair.  I  ought  to  be  taking  care  of  that 
child." 

"  I  ought  to  be,"  said  Hester,  "  when  I  'm  her 
fairy  godmother." 

"  They  're  going  to  set  the  stakes  for  the  tents," 
cried  Rafe.  "And  the  baby  is  going  to  strike 
the  first  blow." 

"Oh!"  said  Charlotte.  "Just  think  of  me 
living  in  that  house  with  all  those  portraits,  and 
you  living  in  a  tent  all  summer !  You  must  ask 
me  to  visit  you!" 

"Angels  have  always  visited  people  who  live 
in  tents,"  said  Rafe. 


LITTLE  ROSALIE. 


LITTLE  ROSALIE. 

T  TESTEE  had  more  opportunity  for  visiting 
*•  A  than  many  of  the  girls  at  Waterways; 
for  her  home  being  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world,  she  could  not  easily  return  there  either 
in  the  long  or  short  vacations;  and  several  of 
Miss  Marks's  friends  were  very  glad  to  have 
her  whenever  she  could  come  to  them. 

After  being  at  Old  Benbow,  and  being  received 
with  favor  by  Grandmother  Maurice,  she  some- 
times went  up  to  town  for  a  holiday  with  Mar- 
nie,  welcomed  by  the  children  with  hugs  and 
with  treats,  and  introduced  by  them  to  all  their 
objects  of  pleasure.  And  in  the  winter-time 
in  town  the  object  that  gave  them  most  pleasure 
was  Little  Eosalie. 

It  was  a  young  "play-acting  girl,"  as  the 
children's  nurse  called  her.  Her  name,  on  the 


232  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

•v 
advertising  bills  posted  up  at  every  street  corner, 

was  "  LITTLE  KOSALIE  ; "  and  the  great  delight 
of  the  children  was  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  a 
matine'e  on  a  Saturday  when  they  could  hear 
and  see  her.  It  made  no  difference  to  them 
who  else  was  on  the  stage.  Irving  himself  or 
Booth,  Patti  or  Nilsson,  might  have  figured  there ; 
to  the  children  they  would  have  been  merely  as 
aids  to  "Little  Rosalie."  There  was  no  play  to 
speak  of  till  she  appeared ;  or  if  there  were,  it 
was  only  because  it  led  up  to  her  appearance  ; 
and  when  she  vanished,  it  was  all  flat  and  un- 
profitable till  she  came  on  again. 

When  they  went  home,  they  used  to  talk  over 
the  afternoon's  experience  untiringly,  by  the  nur- 
sery firelight  and  even  after  they  were  in  their 
beds.  But  the  subject  of  their  talk  was  never  the 
mystery  and  excitement  of  the  play,  the  charm 
of  the  scenery  with  its  lovely  landscapes  and 
splendid  drawing-rooms,  the  beauty  of  the  lead- 
ing lady,  the  sweetness  of  the  music,  the  drollery 
of  clown  or  comic  man  —  it  was  always  and 
only  Little  Rosalie.  And  Hester  was  presently 
as  much  interested  as  any  one  of  the  rest. 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  233 

Sometimes  Little  Eosalie  was  one  character 
in  the  play,  and  sometimes  she  was  another. 
Once  she  was  a  moonlight  fairy,  in  a  little  white 
silk  gown  whose  long  folds  fell  about  her  feet ; 
her  soft  hair  was  loose  on  her  shoulders,  a  star 
gleamed  on  her  forehead,  and  another  star  tipped 
the  lily's  stem  she  held  for  a  wand;  with  her 
eyes  uplifted,  and  a  white  light  on  her  face,  she 
sang,  and  the  children  thought  a  little  angel 
from  heaven  would  sing  and  look  in  just  that 
way.  And  then  a  rosy  light  shone  on  her  and 
made  her  lovely  and  luminous ;  again  this 
changed  to  a  pale-blue  light,  while  a  mist  gath- 
ered about  her  and  she  seemed  to  grow  dimmer 
and  dimmer,  singing  more  and  more  faintly,  and 
now  —  sbe  was  gone !  The  children  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  way  in  which  folds  of  lace,  drawn  one 
after  another  between  her  and  themselves,  had 
caused  her  to  disappear;  all  seemed  to  be  due 
to  Kosalie's  own  powers  and  perfections.  And 
when,  in  another  scene,  she  came  dancing  on  in 
short,  gauzy  skirts,  with  two  butterfly-wings  of 
peacock-feathers  upon  her  shoulders,  and,  spring- 
ing upon  a  cloud,  went  sailing  up  out  of  sight 


234  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

as  the  play  ended  with  soft  music,  they  always 
found  it  difficult  thoroughly  to  believe  that  she 
was  not  a  fairy  indeed ;  and  the  next  time  they 
were  taken  to  see  her,  they  felt  some  misgivings 
as  to  whether  she  really  would  -be  there.  And 
when  she  did  appear,  but  as  a  poor  little  street- 
girl  selling  trifles  from  her  basket,  then  it  seemed 
as  if  she  had  been  a  poor  little  street-girl  all  her 
life,  and  as  if  her  fairy  existence  were  all  a  dream 
of  their  own. 

What  they  would  have  said  at  first,  if  they 
could  have  known  that  Little  Rosalie  acted  the 
part  of  a  street-girl  selling  trifles  for  her  mother 
and  the  rest  at  home  in  so  lifelike  a  manner 
because  Eosalie  was  in  truth  and  reality  working 
for  her  own  mother  and  the  others  at  home,  I 
do  not  know.  They  never  thought  of  her  as  liv- 
ing a  life  apart  from  that  at  the  theatre.  It 
never  occurred  to  them  to  ask  what  became  of 
her  in  the  times  when  she  was  not  tripping  and 
dancing  hither  and  thither  in  the  midst  of 
colored  lights  and  enchantments  ;  whether  she 
was  packed  up  and  put  away  with  the  stage 
properties,  or  whether  she  lived  perpetually  in 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  235 

the  light  and  atmosphere  in  which  they  saw  her 
play  her  mimic  part.  But  there  was  no  lady  in 
all  the  land,  nor  in  all  the  story-books,  nor  in  all 
dear  Mamie's  histories,  nor  in  all  the  tales  that 
Aunt  Nan  had  to  tell,  who  was  one  tithe  as  in- 
teresting to  them  as  Little  Rosalie.  And  when 
they  put  a  penny  aside  for  their  church  money 
and  their  missionary  money,  they  were  very  apt 
to  put  two  pennies  aside  for  the  ticket  that  was 
to  be  an  "  open  sesame "  to  Little  Rosalie's  do- 
main ;  and  even  their  own  savings  were  not 
enough,  but  had  to  be  helped  out  by  Uncle 
John  or  Aunt  Nan,  —  for  there  were  so  many 
of  them  that  they  usually  had  found  it  best 
when  they  went  to  the  theatre  to  take  a  box, 
and  that  required  quite  a  sum  of  money.  And 
they  always  had  the  indulgence  when  Hester 
came  ;  and  it  was  the  only  thing  that  reconciled 
them  to  her  going  away  —  because  then  she 
could  come  again ! 

But  it  was  not  so  very  often,  after  all,  that 
this  indulgence  was  permitted  them.  Not  half 
a  dozen  times  a  year  were  they  allowed  so  great 
a  treat ;  but  once  for  themselves  and  with  their 


236  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

own  money ;  and  once  because  it  was  Christmas 
week  ;  and  once  because  some  lady  came  with  a 
young  daughter  of  her  own  to  be  entertained ; 
and  once  when  their  cousins  came  up  from  the 
country, — and  oh,  how  they  wished  they  had 
cousins  to  come  up  from  the  country  every  week  ! 

"No,"  said  mamma.  "When  you  have  been 
having  hard  lessons,  —  when  Mamie  has  been 
struggling  with  her  '  compound  proportion ' —  " 

"'The  rule  of  three  perplexes  me,  and  frac- 
tions drive  me  mad,'"  sang  Larry,  half  under 
his  breath. 

"  —  and  Larry  laboring  over  his  Natural 
Philosophy,  and  Kosy  has  mastered  her  diffi- 
culties, and  Joe  and  all  have  been  doing 
their  best,  —  then  I  think  an  excursion  into 
Fairyland  does  you  no  harm,  and  I  let  you  go 
and  see  Little  Rosalie.  But  if  you  went  as  often 
as  you  wish  to  go,  why,  it  would  be  like  a 
dinner  that  is  all  dessert !  And  that,  you  know, 
would  never  do." 

"  I  suppose  not,  mamma,"  said  Marnie,  a  little 
sorrowfully. 

"Going   to    see    Little    Rosalie,"   said   Larry, 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  237 

"isn't    like    going    to     the    theatre    generally 
It 's  —  " 

"  It 's  just  because  we  love  her  so,"  said  Marnie. 
"  And  wish  to  see  her,"  added  Joe. 
"  And  I  really  think  she  knows  us  now,"  said 
Marnie.     "  I  should  have  liked  so  much  to  throw 
her  my  bunch  of  violets,  if  I  had  dared,  the  very 
last  time  we  were  there." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  ? "  said  Larry.  "  I'd 
have  thrown  them  for  you." 

"  Because  I  knew  you  would,  I  suppose,"  an- 
swered Marnie.  "And  I  didn't  know  whether 
it  would  do,  you  know." 

"That's  just  like  a  girl ! "  said  Larry. 
"  You  don't  expect  me  to  be  like  anything  else, 
do  you  ? "  said  Marnie,  with  her  sweet  roguish 
smile. 

"  Mamma,"  said  little  Kate,  returning  to  the 
subject,  "  is  she  weally  alive,  or  do  they  only 
wind  her  up  and  make  her  go  ? " 

"I  don't  believe  she's  alive  just  as  we  are," 
said  Marnie.  "  She  has  those  lovely  wings,  you 
know." 

"She  doesn't  have  them  all  the  time,"  said 


238  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Joe.  "  She  does  n't  have  them  when  she 's  kneel- 
ing by  her  dying  mother,  or  selling  the  things  in 
the  street." 

"  Oh,  then"  said  Rosy,  "  she 's  acting  !  And 
the  wings  are  probably  folded  up  under  her 
ragged  gown." 

"  But  I  should  think  they  'd  show  just  a  little 
bit" 

"  Well,  they  don't  Oh,  should  n't  you  like  to 
know  her,  Mamie,  and  talk  with  her  once  ! " 

But  Marnie  was  busy  just  then  in  comforting 
little  Kate,  who  had  hit  her  head  against  some 
corner. 

"  The  idea ! "  said  Grandmother  Maurice,  who 
was  there  for  two  or  three  days.  "  I  should  cer- 
tainly be  afraid,  Margaret,  that,  being  so  fas- 
cinated by  her,  they  might  some  time  become 
acquainted  with  this  child-actor." 

"And  what  if  they  should?"  said  their 
mother.  "I  am  acquainted  with  her." 

"  You,  mamma,  you  ? "  came  a  chorus.  "  Oh, 
mamma,  you  can't  mean  so !  —  how  did  it  hap- 
pen ?  —  tell  us  all  about  it,  please ! " 

"  Is  she  a  truly  person  ?  "  asked  little  Kate. 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  239 

"Does  she  live  in  the  theatre?"  asked 
Joe. 

"  Has  she  a  mother,  or  anybody  ? "  asked 
Mamie. 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  '  truly '  person,"  answered  their 
mother.  "  She  lives  on  a  street  around  the  cor- 
ner a  little  way  from  the  theatre.  She  has  a 
mother,  a  very  sick  mother,  and  an  old  grand- 
mother, and  a  number  of  brothers  and  sisters. 
And  she  takes  care  of  all  of  them." 

"  Takes  care  ? "  asked  Mamie,  drawing  her 
puzzled  brows  together. 

"  Yes,  actually  takes  care.  In  the  first  place, 
there  is  no  money  for  the  family  but  that  which 
she  herself  earns.  Out  of  her  salary  she  pays 
the  rent  of  their  rooms,  buys  their  coal,  and  all 
their  food,  their  clothes,  their  medicines,  and 
everything  else  they  have.  Of  course,  they  do 
not  have  a  great  deal.  And,  more  than  that, 
this  lovely  little  fairy  creature,  who  seems  to  you 
a  being  of  wings  and  colors,  of  light,  music,  and 
grace,  of  dancing,  and  of  miraculous  fairy-powers, 
rises  in  the  morning,  and  makes  the  fire,  and 
dresses  the  children,  —  the  two  youngest  are 


240  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

twins,  —  and  they  all  are  younger  than  she  her- 
self, too  young  yet  to  do  any  work  worth  men- 
tioning. Then  she  prepares  the  breakfast,  and 
makes  her  mother  comfortable,  helps  her  poor 
old  grandmother,  and  arranges  the  rooms.  Some 
of  the  smaller  ones  help  her  in  that.  And  then 
she  goes  to  rehearsal;  that  is,  to  the  empty 
theatre,  where  they  practise  portions  of  the  even- 
ing work,  with  nobody  to  look  on  or  applaud." 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  be  there  ! "  cried 
Marnie.  "  I  mean,  if  all  the  rest  of  us  could  be." 

"  It  would  n't  attract  you  in  the  least,"  said 
Grandmother  Maurice.  "All  that  part  of  the 
house  where  the  audience  sits  is  dark;  black 
cambric  covers  the  seats,  and  keeps  the  dust 
from  the  velvet  and  gilding;  and  on  the  stage 
the  scenes  are  not  set,  so  you  see  only  odd 
pieces  of  painted  boards  and  ropes  and  pulleys ; 
while  carpenters  and  their  men  are  running 
about  without  their  coats.  The  players  are  in 
their  every-day  clothes,  and  rattle  over  their 
parts,  going  through  only  the  necessary  motions, 
or  trying  certain  of  the  mechanical  effects,  —  the 
things  that  are  done  by  machinery,  you  know,  — 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  241 

such  as  riding  away  on  clouds,  or  sailing  upon  a 
river,  and  so  on.  Oh,  they  are  not  at  all  interest- 
ing, — rehearsals,"  said  grandmother.  "  You  make 
the  thing  altogether  too  attractive,  Margaret." 

"Well,  then,  rehearsal  over,"  resumed  their 
mother,  with  a  smile,  "  our  Little  Rosalie  goes 
to  market,  and  comes  home,  gets  dinner,  and 
clears  it  away.  And  if  she  has  a  new  part  to 
learn,  she  sits  down  to  study  it ;  and  the  study 
is  severe,  for  she  has  to  learn  by  heart  every 
word  she  is  to  say,  every  gesture  she  is  to  make, 
and  every  step  she  is  to  take.  She  has  to  prac- 
tise her  dances,  sometimes  for  hours,  and  her 
songs,  too.  Oh,  she  works  every  day  for  many 
hours  harder  than  you  ever  worked  any  hour 
in  your  lives.  She  has  also  to  make  and  mend 
for  the  others,  although  the  old  grandmother 
gives  some  little  help;  and,  when  night  comes, 
the  twins  and  the  three  other  children  put  them- 
selves to  bed,  while  off  she  goes  with  her  basket 
of  costumes  on  her  arm.  Nobody  thinks  of 
troubling  her,  for  all  the  policemen  and  people 
about  there  know  her  and  are  on  the  lookout  to 
see  her  safely  on  her  way. 

16 


242  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  When  the  play  is  over,  she  comes  'out  of  the 
stage-door  into  the  night.  It  is  often  snowy  and 
slippery  or  dark  and  muddy  from  a  heavy  rain, 
with  not  a  star  to  be  seen,  the  long  reflections 
of  the  street  lamps  shining  on  the  wet  pave- 
ments. Sometimes  she  has  a  little  supper  with 
her  grandmother  before  she  creeps  into  bed,  tired 
out ;  but  often  she  goes  to  bed  hungry. 

"  I  suppose  she  may  be  able  to  play  her  fairy 
and  childish  parts  for  some  years  yet ;  for  poor 
food  and  not  enough  of  it,  late  hours  and  littla 
sleep,  and  her  hard  life,  altogether,  will  perhaps 
have  the  effect  of  making  her  grow  very  slowly, 
and  it  is  probable  she  will  always  be  rather 
undersized.  But  her  beautiful  voice  ought  to  be 
carefully  trained." 

"  Oh,  mamma !  "  cried  Marnie,  with  tears  in 
her  sweet  eyes,  "  I  think  it  is  so  cruel.  If  she 
could  only  come  and  live  with  us  ! " 

"  And  what  would  become  then  of  her  mother 
and  grandmother,  of  her  sisters  and  brothers  ? 
They  have  nobody  but  Rosalie  to  do  anything 
for  them,  and  would  have  to  go  to  the  almshouse 
or  die  of  starvation  if  it  were  not  for  her 
earnings." 


LITTLE  ROSALIE.  243 

"  Oh,  I  forgot !  " 

"Papa  could  take  care  of  them!"  exclaimed 
Joe. 

"Do  you  think  papa  could  take  care  of  an- 
other family  of  eight  persons,  and  educate  and 
bring  up  the  younger  ones  —  " 

"I  suppose  you  think  he  is  made  of  goldl" 
cried  Larry. 

"  There  are  people  worse  off  than  these,"  re- 
sumed mamma ;  "  people  who  have  n't  even  any 
Rosalie  to  earn  money  for  them.  And  such 
people  need  all  the  time  and  money  that  papa 
and  I  have  to  spare." 

"But  it  all  seems  so  strange,"  said  Marnie, 
"that  I  can't  get  quite  used  to  it.  She  lives 
around  the  corner  there,  in  some  rooms,  and 
cooks  and  sweeps  and  sews,  and  has  a  mother 
and  brothers  and  sisters,  as  we  do?" 

"  Yes ;  and  I  suppose  her  mother's  heart  aches 
to  have  poor  Little  Eosalie  doing  so  much;  no 
doubt  she  often  grieves  over  it.  I  've  no  doubt, 
too,  that  she  may  feel  a  sort  of  terror,  dreading 
what  would  become  of  the  other  children  if  any- 
thing happened  to  Rosalie.  So,  too,  all  the 


244  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

children  look  upon  Eosalie  as  the  one  who  gives 
them  everything  they  have ;  as  their  protector  — 
in  short,  their  guardian-angel.  When  you  saw 
her  in  that  singing-play  hovering  over  the 
children  asleep  in  the  wood,  with  the  great  rosy 
wings  arching  up  above  her  head  and  pointing 
down  below  her  feet,  you  did  n't  dream  that  she 
really  was  a  guardian-angel  to  so  many,  —  did 
you?" 

"Oh,  mamma,"  cried  Mamie,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  "  and  I  am  of  no  use  at  all ! "  and  she 
could  n't  see  a  word  of  Eosy's  exercise,  which  she 
had  been  looking  over  for  her  sister  when  the 
talk  began,  because  of  those  tears. 

"  I  think,"  said  Hester,  timidly,  "  I  don't  like  it 
quite  so  well  to  know  about  her  really,  though. 
Larry  said  once  that  when  the  play  was  over  she 
was  changed  into  a  footlight  and  somebody 
turned  her  off,  and  when  it  was  lighted  again, 
she  stepped  out.  But  —  " 

"  Oh,  but  Marnie  said  that  could  n't  be,"  cried 
Larry,  —  "  it  was  the  night  Joe  cut  his  hand  and 
Marnie  made  him  forget  the  pain  by  talking  about 
Rosalie,  —  and  she  said  that,  perhaps,  when  the 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  245 

lights  were  put  out,  Rosalie  went  down  through 
one  of  the  trap-doors  and  into  a  narrow  passage 
that  ran  far  away  under  all  the  city  and  was 
lighted  by  a  moon  at  the  very  farthest  end,  —  a 
moon  setting  in  the  sea,  for  the  passage  comes 
out  in  a  cave  on  the  sea-coast ;  and  that  the  cave 
was  all  lined,  on  top  and  sides,  with  bell-tones ; 
and  every  time  that  the  light  of  the  little  break- 
ing waves  glanced  up  and  struck  them,  all  the 
bell-tones  were  set  ringing,  and  it  was  Little 
Kosalie's  work  to  polish  off  the  bell-tones  and 
tune  them  and  make  them  ring  just  right,  and 
when  this  was  done  those  tones  were  what  made 
all  the  music  in  the  world." 

"I  didn't  believe  it,"  said  Joe.  "How  do  her 
bell-tones  make  mamma's  voice  sing,  I  'd  like  to 
know?" 

"How does  the  sunlight  make  this  fire  shine?" 
asked  Larry,  loftily. 

"Go  along  with  your  conundrums!  You 
think,  just  because  you're  in  Philosophy,  that 
nobody  else  knows  anything ! " 

"I  said  'perhaps,'  Joe,"  said  Mamie,  gently. 
"It  was  all  only  'maybe,'  you  know." 


246  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FEIENDS. 

"  Well,  I  'm  sure  Eosalie  makes  just  as  much 
music  in  the  world  in  the  way  she  does  as  she 
could  in  that  way,"  said  Larry. 

"  Can't  we  go  and  see  her  at  her  real  home, 
mamma,  or  have  her  come  to  see  us  ? "  asked 
Mamie,  wistfully. 

"  There  it  is,  Margaret !  Just  as  I  told  you  ! " 
said  Grandmother  Maurice. 

"I  am  afraid  it  would  do  her  no  good,  my 
dear.  It  is  no  kindness  to  make  her  discontented 
with  her  own  home.  And  ours  is  very  different." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Eosy,  "  you  said  we  might 
go  to  see  her  when  Hester  came." 

"  So  I  did,  if  you  had  money  enough  between 
you  for  a  box." 

"  It  is  ten  dollars  for  a  box,"  exclaimed  grand- 
mother. 

"  But  there  are  so  many  of  us  that  it  is  cheaper 
to  have  a  box,  and  in  some  respects  it  is  more 
convenient." 

"I  don't  like  a  box  half  so  well,"  said  Joe. 
"  There 's  always  somebody  that  does  n't  see  any- 
thing." 

"  Well,  it  is  never  you,  Joe ! "  said  grandmother. 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  247 

Joe  colored  up  so  that  it  was  certain  he  would 
have  answered  back  and  spoiled  everything,  if 
Hester's  hand  had  not  stolen  gently  to  his  arm ; 
still  he  must  say  something  sharp. 

"  Rosy  does  n't  care,"  he  remarked,  "  if  I  do 
have  the  best  seat  for  seeing,  so  long  as  she  'B  in 
the  front  of  the  box  where  people  can  see  her 
long  curls." 

"  Oh,  I  should  think  you  'd  be  ashamed,  Joe ! " 
cried  Rosy.  "  I  never  wished  anybody  but  Rosa- 
lie to  see  them." 

"And  we  all  wish  Rosalie  to  like  us,"  said 
Marnie. 

"Rosalie's  too  busy  for  that  sort  of  thing!" 
said  Larry,  with  great  contempt. 

"I  don't  know  that  she  is,"  said  Mamie. 
"Once  —  I  —  I  never  told  anybody  —  but  once, 
when  she  was  so  very  near  our  box,  you  know,  I 
really  did  throw  her  a  little  lace  bag  full  of 
chocolates,  —  those  lovely  chocolates  that  Uncle 
John  gives  us.  And  she  caught  it,  and  looked 
over  and  laughed,  and  actually  slipped  one  into 
her  mouth  —  " 

"  Then  they  weally  do  eat  chocolates  in  Fairy- 


248  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

land,"  murmured  little  Kate,  as  she  climbed  into 
Mamie's  lap,  for  as  yet  she  had  by  no  means  set- 
tled everything  clearly  in  her  head. 

"  Well,"  said  Larry,  presently,  looking  up  from 
the  heavy  calculations  that  he  had  been  making 
with  a  pencil  on  his  wristbands,  "we  can't  go 
yet,  —  unless  grandmother  'chips  in'  —  "  And 
to  everybody's  amazement  grandmother  did 
"chip  in"  a  bright  two-dollar-and-a-half  gold 
piece  on  the  spot. 

"  That  squares  it ! "  said  Larry.  "  We  could 
have  borrowed  some  of  our  church-money,  and 
let  that  wait,  but  Mamie  said  it  wouldn't  do. 
Now  —  nurse  and  grandmother  and  mamma  are 
three,  and  all  the  rest  of  us  are — how  many? 
No  matter ;  we  can  all  squeeze  in,  I  guess.  And 
I  say,  Mamie,"  and  here  Larry's  voice  softened 
to  a  whisper,  "  have  you  any  more  of  the  choco- 
lates ? " 

That  night,  in  their  little  beds  in  the  big  bed- 
room, most  of  the  children,  as  usual,  could  hardly 
close  their  eyes  for  joy  over  the  expected  outing. 

"  Say,  Marnie,  are  you  asleep  ? "  whispered 
Hester. 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  249 

"  Of  course  not,"  answered  Marnie.  "  How  do 
you  suppose  I  can  sleep,  when  I  'm  going  over  iu 
my  mind  the  music  that  Rosalie  's  going  to  sing 
and  dance  to,  next  Saturday  ? " 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  like,  Marnie  ? " 

"  Yes,  what  is  it  like,  Marnie  ? " 

"Well,  it  begins  like  a  wind  in  the  woods, — 
every  little  leaf  whispers  like  a  flute,  and  then 
they  all  bend  with  the  wind  that  comes  sighing 
along,  and  that  wind  is  an  oboe ;  you  know  the 
oboe.  And  it  goes  sighing  along  out  of  sight. 
And  far,  far,  far  off,  the  violins  are  humming,  all 
in  a  confusion,  and  the  sound  of  them  grows 
slower  and  more  distinct,  and  you  hear  it,  and  it 
is  rain.  And  then  come  long,  heavy  chords  from 
the  violoncellos,  that  mean  clouds.  And,  suddenly, 
the  tone  of  a  great,  strong  violin  goes  spurting 
into  the  rain  and  cloud,  and  comes  leaping  and 
dancing  down,  and  that  is  the  brook ;  and  then 
the  brass  things  —  the  horns,  you  know,  and  the 
cymbals  and  those  —  make  everything  all  sun- 
shine, and  the  violins  soften  down,  and  you  hear 
harp-tones,  —  oh,  in  such  a  soft,  bright,  lovely 
air!  And  that  is  Eosalie,  the  Spirit  of  the 


250  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

Brook,  coming  on.  And  she  is  all  in  palest  folds 
of  gauze,  palest  blue  and  palest  green,  like  great 
sheets  of  ice ;  she  is  sparkling  with  jewels,  and 
her  eyes  and  smile  sparkle,  too,  and  —  oh,  Hester, 
how  beautiful  it  is  for  anybody  to  do  all  the 
good  that  Rosalie  does  in  the  world !  Oh,  if  I 
could  only  be  of  use  to  people  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  are,  Mamie  dear,  you  are  of  the 
greatest  use  to  me  !  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
do  without  you ! "  exclaimed  her  little  bed- 
fellow, clasping  Mamie  in  her  arms,  and  able 
to  speak  her  heart  fully  because  it  was  dark. 
"You  see  to  my  work,  and  you  make  up  our 
quarrels,  and  you  get  your  mamma  to  let  us  do 
things,  and  —  and  —  " 

"But,  you  see,  if  I  died, — to-morrow,  say, — 
you  would  all  get  along  as  well  without  me  in  a 
little  while.  I'm  not  really  necessary  to  any- 
body. And  she  is  really  necessary  just  to  keep 
ever  so  many  people  alive,  and  to  bring  them  up 
and  help  them  on  in  the  world.  And  then, 
think  to  how  many  people  she  gives  pleasure; 
and  how  many  children  just  count  the  days,  the 
way  we  do,  before  they  go  to  see  '  Little  Rosalie.' 


LITTLE   KOSALIE.  251 

How  perfectly  lovely  it  must  be  to  give  people 
pleasure,  like  that !  Oh,  if  I  could  but  be  as  use- 
ful in  the  world  as  she  is  —  " 

And  there  Mamie  stopped  her  confidences, 
for  the  faintly  murmured  assents  showed  that 
Hester  would  soon  be  sound  asleep  in  spite  of 
herself. 

What  a  merry  party  it  was,  that  set  out  for 
the  "Old  Prospero"  that  frosty  Saturday  after- 
noon !  Something  detained  the  mother  at  home ; 
but  Aunt  Nan  went  in  her  place,  and  there  were 
nurse  and  Grandmother  Maurice  and  —  The  door- 
keeper laughed  to  see  the  rest  of  them ;  he  did  n't 
pretend  to  count  them,  and  so  why  should  I  ?  It 
is  no  affair  of  anybody  but  the  door-keeper,  how 
many  went  into  that  box ;  nor  that  nurse  had  a 
luncheon  for  little  Kate;  nor  was  it  even  his 
affair  that  Larry  and  Joe  did  a  good  deal  of 
pushing  and  shoving  before  finding  the  seats 
they  wished;  nor  that  Joe  hung  over  the  red 
velvet  cushion  in  front,  to  see  whether,  if  he  fell, 
his  head  would  alight  on  the  bass-drum  or  the 
snare-drum  in  the  orchestra,  while  grandmother 
clutched  at  his  heels  and  very  nearly  made  him 


252  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

fall ;  nor  that  Mamie,  as  usual,  was  crowded  into 
the  very  front  corner  next  the  stage,  where,  if 
Joe  had  fallen,  it  would  not  have  hurt  him ;  and 
where  she  could  see  less  of  the  play  than  any  of 
the  others;  where,  had  she  chosen,  she  could 
have  climbed  over  and  at  a  single  step  have 
mingled  in  the  scene ;  and  where  she  could  see 
so  much  of  the  ropes,  and  ladders,  and  coils  of 
hose,  and  pieces  of  scenery,  and  everything  going 
on  in  the  wings,  that  it  destroyed  a  good  part  of 
the  illusion. 

Mamie  laughed,  though,  —  she  couldn't  help 
it,  —  when  Aunt  Nan,  after  settling  herself,  took 
a  phial  of  water  from  her  muff. 

"  There  ! "  said  Aunt  Nan.  "  I  never  go  to  the 
theatre  without  it.  For  you  know  if  there 
should  he  a  fire,  and  one  were  in  danger  of  suffo- 
cating from  the  smoke,  only  let  the  handkerchief 
be  wet  in  cold  water  and  held  over  the  mouth 
and  nose,  and  one  can  breathe  through  that  and 
keep  alive  a  great  while  longer  —  " 

"  Nonsense,  Nan  ! "  said  grandmother.  "  What 
do  you  want  to  frighten  the  children  for  ?  As  if 
there  were  one  atom  of  danger  in  such  a  well- 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  253 

regulated  place  as  this,  with  all  these  doors,  and 
with  firemen  behind  the  scenes  ! " 

"  There  is  always  danger,  Mrs.  Maurice,  in  the 
best  of  them,"  said  Aunt  Nan,  severely.  "  And 
even  if  the  firemen  should  put  out  the  fire,  the 
fright,  the  crazy  panic,  that  would  be  caused, 
would  do  as  much  harm  as  the  fire ;  for  there 
would  be  a  rush  and  a  jam,  and  people  would  be 
thrown  down  and  trodden  and  squeezed  and  suf- 
focated to  death.  I  was  in  a  theatre  once,"  she 
continued,  as  the  children  listened  open-mouthed, 
"  when  there  was  an  alarm  of  fire,  and  everybody 
started  up,  and  some  screamed,  and  some  fainted, 
and  great  heavy  men  in  the  front  rows  went 
walking  right  over  the  backs  of  the  seats  —  oh, 
we  got  out  alive  !  But  I  declare  I  don't  see 
how!  There  are  the  Clingstone  children,— 
little  dears,  —  do  you  see  them,  Mamie?" 

But  as  Marnie  heard  Aunt  Nan,  her  eyes  grew 
bigger  and  bigger,  — far  too  big  to  see  anything 
so  near  as  the  Clingstone  children ;  so  big  that 
she  could  see  only  the  daily  danger  in  which 
Little  Eosalie  lived ;  and  the  terrible  thought  of 
it  all  prevented  any  pleasure  she  might  have 


254  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

taken  in  the  strange  and  lovely  opening  scenes. 
But  after  a  while,  and  when  Little  Eosalie  had 
come  on  the  scene,  Mamie  forgot  that  trouble  in 
her  present  delight. 

"  Ain't  you  glad  you  corned,  Marnie  ? "  whis- 
pered little  Kate;  and,  taking  Mamie's  answer 
for  granted,  added,  with  a  sigh  of  contentment, 
"  So  'm  I ! " 

But  Marnie  did  not  hear  her  —  she  was  so  rapt 
in  seeing  a  huge  blossom  open  and  let  Eosalie  out, 
to  the  sound  of  soft  music,  all  her  fays  following 
from  other  unfolding  flowers.  She  leaned  far 
from  the  box  in  her  forgetful  gazing  ;  and  soon  it 
seemed  as  though  Eosalie,  whirling  very  near  in 
her  pirouette,  gave  them  a  smile  of  recognition, 
and  then  none  of  the  children  had  either  eyes  or 
thoughts  for  anything  but  this  floating,  flashing 
sylph,  swift  as  a  flame  and  beautiful  as  a  flower. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  Lucia  was  here  ! "  thought  Marnie. 

At  that  moment  a  child  down  in  the  audience 
cried  about  something,  and  diverted  from  the  stage, 
for  half  a  thought,  the  glances  of  the  occupants 
of  the  boxes,  and  of  the  rest  of  the  audience  as 
well,  —  the  glances  of  all  but  Marnie.  In  that 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  255 

brief  moment  her  eye  beheld  a  dreadful  sight  seen 
by  but  one  other  person  in  front  of  the  stage. 

Some  one  on  the  stage,  however,  had  seen  it 
had  uttered  something,  not  in  the  part,  to  the 
one  nearest,  and  the  next  instant  down  rolled  the 
drop-scene  and  hid  the  stage  from  view. 

But  not  a  moment  too  soon.  For  a  spark  had 
shot  out  and  fallen  on  some  inflammable  sub- 
stance, and  one  little  flame  had  sprung  up  and 
another  had  followed  it,  racing  and  chasing  up- 
wards till  a  hundred  tiny  tongues  of  fire,  like 
little  demons,  were  flying  up  the  inner  drapery 
and  far  aloft.  At  the  same  instant  some  one  in 
the  back  of  the  audience  shouted,  "  Fire  ! " 

It  is  a  terrible  sound  in  a  crowded  building. 
It  makes  the  heart  stop  beating  for  a  second.  It 
made  Aunt  Nan's  heart  stop  beating  for  that 
second,  and  then  she  began  to  cry  in  spite  of 
grandmother's  calm  voice,  and  to  huddle  the 

D 

children  together  to  rush  for  the  door.  But  it 
came  upon  Mamie  in  that  moment  that  if  every- 
body rushed  to  the  door  at  once,  nobody  could 
get  there.  Those  in  front,  she  saw  at  once, 
would  be  crowded  on  and  knocked  down  by 


256  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

others  piling  upon  them,  and  all  buried  under 
one  another,  stifled  and  killed,  —  so  that  fire 
itself  could  do  no  more.  As  the  thought,  light- 
ning-swift, ran  through  her  mind,  she  saw  people 
rising  excitedly  in  the  front,  and  she  knew  there 
would  be  a  panic  the  next  moment,  a  rush,  a  jam, 
and  fearful  trouble.  Oh,  why  was  there  nobody 
to  prevent  it  ?  If  papa  were  but  there !  Oh, 
thank  Heaven,  thank  Heaven,  he  was  not,  —  if 
there  was  no  escape  !  Could  nobody  hinder  ?  If 
she  herself  were  only  of  some  use  1  And  these 
countless  children  here,  whose  mothers  would  be 
broken-hearted;  and  the  mothers  who  would 
never  see  their  homes  again,  —  homes  that  would 
be  desolate  !  This  was  all  realized  in  two  breaths. 
And  in  a  third  breath  the  drop-scene  was  pulled 
aside  a  trifle,  some  of  the  orchestra  took  up  the 
music  that  had  stopped  for  only  a  few  beats,  and 
out  bounded  Little  Eosalie  with  her  long  scarf 
and  basket,  spinning  and  pirouetting  half-way 
across  the  stage,  and  pausing  in  the  middle  of  the 
prettiest  attitude  of  the  "Great  Bonbon  Act," 
while  out  of  the  charming  basket  on  her  arm  she 
caught  and  whirled  hundreds  of  bonbons  as  far 


LITTLE    ROSALIE.  257 

as  her  hand  could  throw  them  among  the  babies 
in  the  audience.  It  was  done  in  far  less  time 
than  it  takes  me  to  tell  of  it.  But  as  one  of 
these  very  bonbons  fell  into  the  box,  the  thought 
rushed  into  Mamie's  mind  that  the  stage  people 
were  afraid  of  the  panic  and  the  crush,  and  so 
had  sent  Little  Eosalie  out  with  the  bonbons,  to 
dance  as  if  nothing  were  the  matter,  hoping  thus 
to  distract  the  attention  of  at  least  enough  of  the 
audience  to  prevent  the  sudden  attempt  of  so 
many  to  get  out  at  once,  —  whereby  a  number 
would  certainly  be  killed  in  the  panic,  —  by 
making  them  think  it  must  be  a  false  alarm  if 
the  play  could  still  go  on  and  this  child  dance  so 
composedly,  and  that  in  the  mean  time  they 
themselves  were  trying  to  put  out  the  fire. 

For  Marnie  herself  had  seen  the  fire.  And 
she  knew  it  was  actually  in  there,  spurting  and 
spouting  and  climbing  higher  and  higher;  and 
she  could  hear,  from  where  she  was,  the  breath- 
less movements  of  those  behind  the  curtain  who 
were  trying  to  smother  it. 

But  something  else  rushed  over  Marnie,  too, 
for  thought  is  wondrous  quick  and  full.  It 

17 


258  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

was  that  if  Little  Eosalie  stayed  there  another 
moment  she  would  herself  be  burned  alive,  and 
then  what  would  become  of  the  mother  and  the 
grandmother  and  the  twins,  and  all  the  rest  who 
had  nobody  but  Rosalie  in  the  whole  wide  world  ! 
And  before  Marnie  fairly  knew  what  she  was 
doing,  and  while  poor  Aunt  Nan  was  still  cluck- 
ing and  calling  to  the  family,  she  sprang  up  and 
from  the  box,  —  it  was  but  a  single  step,  —  and 
had  run  across  the  stage,  before  all  the  bewildered 
people,  and  had  clasped  Little  Eosalie,  crying 
quickly  and  softly,  as  she  dropped  her  arms, 
"  Oh,  run,  run,  Little  Eosalie,  run  !  Save  your- 
self !  For  I  really  saw  the  fire !  And,"  as  Eosalie 
did  not  run,  "  what  will  they  do  at  home  without 
you,  if  you  are  killed  here  ?  And  there  are  so 
many  of  us  at  home  that  nobody  will  miss  me 
very  much  !  I  will  stay  instead  of  you  ! " 

Poor  Marnie !  As  if  her  staying  would  have 
been  of  the  least  use  !  But  she  never  thought  of 
that.  She  only  thought  that  if  some  child  must 
stay  there  it  would  better  be  she  than  Eosalie. 
And  even  while  she  pleaded,  up  went  the  great 
drop-scene,  rolling  to  the  top,  and  out  nocked  all 


LITTLE  ROSALIE.  259 

the  players  of  the  scene,  and  a  few  of  the  orches- 
tra, who  had  not  at  first  had  courage  to  remain, 
slipped  back  and  swelled  the  music;  and  a 
motley  throng  surrounded  Eosalie  and  Marnie, 
and  whirled  them  back  and  out  of  sight,  and 
from  the  front  there  came  a  perfect  storm  of 
clapping  hands  that  was  almost  terrific.  And 
then  a  group  of  the  strangest  looking  people  were 
caressing  Marnie,  and  Little  Eosalie  herself  was 
hanging  on  her  neck  one  moment,  and  somebody 
took  her  by  the  hand,  —  she  was  now  pretty 
thoroughly  frightened,  and  had  a  vague  idea 
that  she  was  to  be  carried  out  to  the  "  sea-cave," 
after  all,  —  and  led  her  round  by  some  back  way 
to  the  box  again.  Here  Aunt  Nan  was  just 
resuming  her  seat  and  smoothing  her  ruffled 
feathers,  but  was  still  quite  determined  to  go  out 
and  take  the  children  with  her,  as  soon  as  this 
could  be  done  without  attracting  too  much  atten- 
tion. The  children  were  quite  as  determined  not 
to  go ;  and,  indeed,  their  pleadings  finally  carried 

the  day. 

But  that  night  Mamie's  father  came  into  the 
room  where  she  lay  in  her  little  bed  much  too 


260  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

excited  to  sleep.  "It  was  one  of  the  bravest 
things  I  ever  heard  of,  —  Little  Rosalie's  act," 
said  he.  "Such  a  child  as  that  must  not  be 
wasted.  And  a  subscription  is  to  be  taken  up 
that  will  bring  a  sufficient  sum  to  complete  her 
education  in  whatever  way  is  thought  best." 

"Oh,  you  don't  mean  so,  papa !"  came  a  chorus 
from  all  the  beds.  "  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  !  And 
to  take  care  of  all  her  folks  at  home,  too, 
papa ! " 

"  But  as  for  you,  my  little  darling,"  continued 
her  father  to  Mamie,  "how  could  you  possibly 
think  you  were  of  so  little  use  at  home  as  to  be 
willing  to  break  our  hearts  by  risking  the  loss  of 
your  life  ?  What  if  I  had  come  home  to-night 
and  found  no  Mamie  to  meet  me  ? "  And  Mar- 
nie  started  up  and  threw  her  arms  about  her 
father,  touched  to  the  heart  by  her  sudden  feel- 
ing of  what  his  grief  might  have  been.  "  I  want 
you  never  to  forget,  little  daughter,"  he  went  on 
in  a  husky  voice,  "that  you  are  of  great  and 
important  use  in  the  family.  Does  not  your 
mother  rely  on  you  as  her  first  aid  ?  Are  you 
not  my  little  comforter  ?  How  are  all  these 


LITTLE   ROSALIE.  261 

children  to  grow  up  without  the  example  and  the 
care  of  their  eldest  sister  ?  Our  duties  all  begin 
at  home.  Heroic  actions  are  great  and  admirable, 
but  there  are  other  actions  just  as  admirable. 
Among  these  are  the  daily  acts  of  duty  done, 
with  which  you  make  life  pleasant  and  easy  for 
your  mother  and  me,  for  Larry,  for  little  Kate, 
and  for  all  of  us.  When  I  remember  that 
I  never  saw  my  Mamie  out  of  temper  in  my 
life  —  " 

"Nor  heard  her  speak  rudely  to  any  one," 
interrupted  the  listening  Hester. 

"  Nor  knew  of  her  telling  anything  but  the 
truth,"  cried  Larry  from  the  other  room. 

"  Nor  heard  her  say  '  I  can't,'  when  you  ask 
her  to  tie  your  ribbons,  or  to  do  your  sum,  or 
to  find  your  needle,"  added  Kosy. 

"  Nor  knew  her  to  do  anything  but  to  try  to 
make  everybody  about  her  happy,  and  keep  her 
own  sweet  soul  white  in  the  eyes  of  heaven," 
continued  her  father.  "  When  I  remember  this 
of  Marnie,  I  think  all  this  daily  service  is  of  as 
much  worth  as  the  one  heroic  deed  that  risks 
life  to  save  the  lives  of  others." 


262  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FKIENDS. 

"  I  don't"  said  Joe.  "  I  think  it 's  splendid  to 
save  folks'  lives.  I  'm  not  going  to  do  anything 
else,  when  I  grow  up.  Are  you,  Larry  ?  Only, 
I  wish  I  'd  thought  before  Marnie  did,  and  had 
begun  by  trying  to  save  Little  Eosalie  ! " 


AT  OLD  BENBOW. 


AT  OLD  BENBOW. 

winter  had  set  in  with  such  a  soft  snow- 
fall,  and  Old  Benbow  looked  so  fine  with 
the  ermine  mantling  his  great  forests,  and  there 
was  such  a  crystal  crispness  of  frozen  surface, 
that  Grandmother  Maurice  felt  that  she  must 
have  the  children  up  in  the  hills  for  Christmas. 

"  You  shall  have  a  sleigh-ride  on  the  lake,"  she 
wrote,  "and  Larry  shall  build  a  snow  statue, 
if  he  can.  And  you  shall  toast  chestnuts,  and 
hear  strange  stories  of  the  mountain  doings. 
And  what  you  will  like  better,  perhaps  —  yes,  you 
shall  have  a  toboggan  slide  ;  there  won't  be  such 
another  in  the  country !  But  you  shall  have  no 
Christmas  presents.  We  will  see  if  it  isn't 
possible  to  keep  Christmas  joyously  without  de- 
grading it  by  mercenary  and  self-seeking  gifts." 

It  did  seem  a  shame,  grandmother  argued  to 
herself,  to  let  such  possibilities  for  a  toboggan 


266  HESTEK  STANLEY'S  FEIENDS. 

slide  as  the  dry  torrent  bed  afforded  go  to 
waste. 

When  a  thaw  and  a  landslide  from  the  oppo- 
site mountain  nearly  filled  the  bed  of  the  torrent, 
till  next  spring's  freshets  should  wash  the  way 
clear  again,  she  only  turned  her  attention  to  the 
half-mile  long  slope  to  the  lake,  below  the  house 
on  the  other  side,  where  a  giant  fir-tree,  once 
blasted  by  lightning,  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
way. 

"  I  will  have  Thomas  and  John  cut  that  old 
tree  down,"  said  grandmother,  looking  down  into 
its  distant  top,  where  once  a  pair  of  eagles  had 
built  their  nest  of  rude  sticks.  "Yes,"  said 
grandmother,  "  I  meant  to  let  that  tree  stand 
and  have  some  trumpet-flowers  grow  over  it. 
But,  there,  it 's  too  far  off  to  see  the  blossoms, 
and  I  must  have  it  out  of  the  way  or  they  will 
dash  themselves  to  pieces  against  it.  Thomas ! " 

But  Thomas  had  gone  up  the  mountain  for  a 
load  of  back-logs  ;  and  so  grandmother  sat  down 
and  wrote  her  letter ;  and  then  there  came  another 
snow-storm,  turning  to  rain  and  freezing;  and 
there  were  the  mince-pies  to  make,  and  the  cran- 


AT  OLD  BENBOW.  267 

berry  tarts,  and  the  big  pudding,  —  to  be  brought 
in  wrapped  in  blue  flames,  —  and  suddenly  there 
was  a  confusion  of  gayest,  sweetest  outcry,  and 
there  were  the  children.  And  not  only  the  chil- 
dren, but  there  were  Marcia  Meyer,  with  her 
cheeks  so  red  that  you  saw  plainly  her  hair  was 
not  really  red  at  all ;  and  Bella  Brook,  wrapped 
to  the  nose  in  the  lovely  furs  that  Mrs.  Tenter- 
den  had  given  her ;  and  Hester  Stanley,  with 
her  great  black  eyes  glowing  with  wonder  at  the 
mountain  sights  ;  and  a  pale  frail-looking  lad  in 
his  father's  arms,  at  whom  Grandmother  Maurice 
stared  half  aghast. 

For  when  Marnie  had  read  the  letter  which 
her  mother  had  sent  to  Waterways  —  Marnie 
had  gone  to  school  at  St.  Mark's,  as  she  also 
soon  learned  to  call  it  —  nothing  would  content 
her  but  permission  to  bring  Hester  and  Marcia 
and  Bella,  too.  And  then  Hester  whispered  to 
her  the  unpleasantness  of  Marcia's  leaving  Rafe, 
and  it  all  ended,  after  a  half-dozen  purse-deplet- 
ing telegrams  for  permitting  and  for  arranging, 
by  Mr.  Meyer  and  Danby  taking  Rafe  in  their 
arms  and  depositing  him  in  the  parlor  car  and 


268  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

going  with  him  all  the  way  to  Old  Benbow,  and 
by  Mr.  Meyer  taking  the  return  train  as  soon  as 
he  saw  his  boy  safely  at  rest.  "  For,"  Marcia 
had  said,  "  Eafe  never  has  any  pleasures,  and  the 
mountain  air  may  be  the  very  thing  for  him, 
oxygenate  his  blood,  don't  you  know,  and  set  him 
on  his  pins  again." 

The  next  day  he  was  no  worse  for  the  journey, 
and  was  wheeled  out  into  the  big  parlor  —  for 
Grandmother  Maurice  had  had  a  bed  brought 
down  into  the  music-room  for  him  —  and  felt, 
as  he  looked  through  the  long  windows,  as  if 
he  were  in  a  world  of  white  dreams.  Dreams 
or  not,  it  was  very  fortunate  he  was  there,  for  if 
Eafe  had  not  come  to  Old  Benbow,  it  is  indeed 
quite  possible  that  the  rest  of  them  would  never 
have  gone  away  from  it. 

Grandmother  Maurice,  to  tell  the  truth,  would 
much  rather  have  had  her  own  little  brood  all 
by  themselves.  But  she  realized  that  they  were 
the  happier  for  being  able  to  show  the  delights 
of  the  old  eyrie  to  the  invalid  boy,  to  the  irre- 
pressible Marcia,  to  Bella,  whose  prairie  home 
was  so  far  away,  and  to  Hester,  the  little  South 


AT   OLD   BEN  BOW.  269 

Sea  islander,  who  had  now  seen  several  winters 
of  snow,  but  to  whom  the  other  children  felt  it 
must  be  forever  new,  as  so  indeed  it  was,  and 
she  acquiesced  with  a  very  good  grace  —  for 
Grandmother  Maurice. 

"  I  wish  Lucia  was  here,"  said  Joe. 

"Well,"  said  Grandmother  Maurice,  "you 
know  it  wouldn't  agree  with  her  here." 

"I  don't  believe  she  can  slide  on  those  old 
palace  marbles  anything  like  the  way  she  could 
on  that  toboggan  slide,  when  it 's  finished.  It 's 
like  glass  now  down  there." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know  who  Lucia  is,"  said 
Eose,  with  her  little  old-fashioned  politeness,  to 
Hester. 

"  She  is  our  sister,"  said  Joe. 

"  And  she 's  an  Italian  princessa,  or  contessa, 
or  something  of  the  sort,"  said  Rose. 

"  You  seem  to  think  that  it 's  a  fine  thing  to 
be  a  princessa  or  contessa,  as  you  call  it,"  ex- 
claimed grandmother.  "How  often  have  I  told 
you  that  Italy  is  full  of  them,  asking  for 

coppers  ! " 

«Yes,  grandmother,"  said  Joe.     "I  know  all 


270  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

about  it,  and  how  it's  ever  so  much  better  to 
be  sovereigns  and  all  that  over  here;  but  that 
does  n't  hinder  the  fact  about  Lucia,  you  know, 
grandmother." 

"  Joe,"  said  grandmother,  "  you  're  just  as  im- 
pertinent now  as  you  were  two  or  three  years 
ago." 

"  No,  grandmother  dear,  I  'm  improved ;  Eose 
says  so,  and  when  Rose  says  so  there 's  no  dis- 
puting it." 

"Mamie  told  me  all  about  Lucia,"  said 
Hester,  hurriedly.  "  And  I  told  Eafe.  And  he 
corresponds  with  her.  He  is  one  of  the  Shut- 
ins,  you  know." 

"  She  says  she  is  half  an  American  child  now, 
and  her  mother  lets  her  do  as  the  American 
children  do,"  said  Mamie. 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me  ! "  said  grandmother. 

"  And  I  had  a  letter  from  her  yesterday,"  said 
Rafe.  "  Guess  what  she  was  doing !  Do  you 
want  to  hear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  we  do  ! " 

"  Certainly,"  said  grandmother. 

"  '  Yesterday  the  air  was  so  soft  and  clear  and 


AT   OLD   BENBOW.  271 

blue,'  read  Eafe,  unfolding  the  letter,  " '  that  we 
could  see  the  old  Greek  ruins  far  up  the  moun- 
tain terraces  across  the  valley,  and  the  snow 
was  on  the  hills  behind  them.  And  mamma  said 
we  would  ride  over  and  lunch  there,  for  the 
ladies  and  the  Monsignore  had  never  been  there. 
And  I  rode  my  little  white  donkey,  with  Beddu 
leading  him  —  and  so  many  boughs  were  bud- 
ding, and  so  many  birds  were  singing,  and  so 
soft  a  wind  was  blowing,  and  so  blue  was  the 
sky  shining,  that  it  seemed  like  our  spring  at 
home  —  I  mean  up  on  the  side  of  Old  Benbow.' " 

"Yes,"  said  grandmother,  "yes."  And  she 
listened  more  graciously. 

" '  Only,'  "  Kafe  continued  reading,  " '  it  grew 
very  warm,  and  we  met  one  of  the  mountain  men, 
and  Beddu  said  he  had  the  evil-eye,  and  he  knew 
we  never  should  arrive.  But  we  did ;  and  while 
we  were  lunching  I  bent  down  a  bough  of  the 
wild  orange-tree,  and  stripped  the  blossoms  off 
with  my  right  hand,  and  with  the  left  hand  I 
could  have  reached  the  wine-bottles  in  the  snow- 
drift on  the  other  side.  And  oh,  it  was  so  cool 
and  sweet  and  high  and  far  up  there !  It  seemed 


272  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

as  if  I  might  see  over  the  side  of  the  earth  to 
my  dear  people  there.' " 

"  She  's  homesick,"  said  Joe.  "  You  see,  she 's 
downright  homesick." 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  grandmother. 

"  No,  indeed,  she  is  n't,"  said  Mamie.  "  She  's 
perfectly  happy.  She  has  a  father  and  mother 
as  —  almost  as  good  as  ours.  They  're  not  very 
rich,  but  they  have  beautiful  things,  and  she  has 
everything." 

"  Yes,"  said  Joe.  "  When  they  want  a  statue, 
they  just  go  out  in  the  garden  and  dig  it  up." 

"Eafe  can  tell  you  what  they  did  dig  up," 
said  Marcia.  And  at  the  word  he  showed  them 
a  little  gold  coin  on  his  watch-chain, —  a  coin 
much  battered  and  worn  and  covered  with 
strange  characters. 

"  It 's  a  coin  the  Saracens  left  there  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  years  ago,"  he  said.  "  And  she 
sent  it  to  me  for  my  Christmas." 

"  It 's  exactly  like  Lucia  to  be  the  only  one  to 
break  my  rule  of  no  Christmas  presents  this 
year." 

"  She  did  n't  know  the  rule,"  said  Joe,  stoutly, 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  273 

"  and  I  guess  she  'd  like  to  be  keeping  Christmas 
the  way  we  do.  She  'd  like  to  be  over  here  fast 
enough,  and  going  tobogganing  with  us." 

"  I  meant  to  have  that  slide  quite  ready  before 
you  came." 

"  Oh,  it 's  ready  enough,"  said  Larry. 

"  No,  indeed !  And  I  want  you  all  to  under- 
stand that  you  are  not  to  attempt  it  till  that 
huge  old  tree  is  cut  down.  It  stands  directly 
in  the  way,  and  I  can't  have  you  dashing  out 
your  brains  against  it." 

"  As  if  we  did  n't  know  enough  to  steer  clear 
of  it !  At  our  age  ! "  cried  Joe. 

"  Well,  it  was  very  stupid  of  me  to  put  it  off. 
It 's  who  stops  in  the  house  of  by-and-by,  again, 
you  know,  arrives  at  the  house  of  never." 

"  When  it 's  done  it  will  be  fine.  You  never 
went  tobogganing,  Hester.  Oh,  it's  just  like 
riding  on  the  tail  of  a  comet ! " 

"  Yes.  And  the  slide  is  so  directly  underneath 
that  I  can  see  if  any  mischief  happens  to  the 
comet.  John  and  Thomas  shall  go  to  work  on 
that  tree  and  get  it  down  as  soon  as  may  be." 

"  Grandmother,"  said  Joe,  "  you  are  a  trump ! " 

18 


274  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  I  suppose  you  think  that  is  a  respectful  way 
of  speaking  to  your  old  grandmother,"  she  re- 
plied, laughing,  and  smoothing  the  hair  that 
Joe's  embrace  had  disordered. 

"  You  are  not  an  old  grandmother,"  cried 
Larry,  indignantly.  "  You  are  one  of  us ! " 

"  It 's  very  nice  to  have  a  grandmother,"  said 
Hester,  timidly. 

"  Bless  your  dear  heart !  "  And  Hester  had  a 
warm  place  in  Grandmother  Maurice's  affections 
after  that. 

"Well,"  she  said  presently,  "Lucia  needn't 
think  she  is  the  only  one  to  have  picnics  at 
Christmas-time.  If  we  have  n't  the  orange 
boughs,  we  have  the  snow-drifts,  and  we  '11  make 
the  most  of  them  to-day,  for  no  one  knows  about 
to-morrow.  It  does  look  a  little  dubious,  to  be 
sure,"  said  grandmother,  going  to  the  window. 
"  There 's  a  shroud  on  Mistletop,  —  that  always 
means  more  snow.  But  I  don't  believe  it  will 
amount  to  anything  before  midnight.  Where 's 
the  almanac  ?  What  time  does  the  tide  turn 
down  on  the  coast  ? "  And  they  all  hung  round 
her  while  she  studied  the  cabalistic  signs. 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  275 

"About  this  time,"  said  Joe,  "expect  —  a  — 
sleigh-ride  across  the  lake  to  the  blue  cave  and 
the  old  mill.  That 's  what  it  sa^rs.  I  '11  go  and 
tell  Thomas  to  put  the  horses  into  the  big  sleigh 
by  half -past  one,  sha'n't  I,  grandmother  ? "  and 
he  straightway  disappeared. 

"  And  I  '11  tell  Maria  to  have  the  dinner  ear- 
lier," said  grandmother. 

"  Well,  then,  how  many  of  you  are  there  ? "  she 
said  when  she  came  back. 

"  Oh,  we  can  all  pile  in,"  said  Marcia. 

"  How  are  we  to  arrange  that,  Eafe  ? " 

"If  Larry  sits  on  the  back  seat  with  you, 
ma'am,  and  Eose  and  little  Kate  between  you, 
then  Hester  and  Mamie  and  Bella  in  the  middle 
seat,  and  Joe  and  Marcia  and  Thomas  in  the 
front." 

"  Let  me  see.    Are  there  any  more  ? " 

"  Why,  Kafe,  are  n't  you  going  ? " 

"  Are  n't  you  going,  Kafe  ? " 

"  Oh,  it  will  spoil  all  the  fun  if  you  don't  go, 

Eafe  ! " 

"  You  11  be  so  lonesome,  Eafe." 

« I  ?    Oh  no.    It 's  plenty  for  me  to  see  you 


276  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

off  and  see  you  home  again.  No,  indeed.  I 
promised  papa  to  take  no  risks.  And  Danby 
will  stay  with  me,  you  know." 

"  But  you  can  be  all  wrapped  up." 

"  I  could  n't  sit  up  long  enough,  and  you  'd 
have  to  come  home  before  you  wanted  to,  and 
that  would  trouble  me.  And  then  you  forget," 
said  Eafe,  with  his  rare  smile,  "  that  I  'm  one  of 
the  Shut-ins,  and  used  to  it,  you  know." 

"  No  one  can  be  used  to  going  without  pleas- 
ure," cried  Joe. 

"  I  don't  go  without.  It 's  a  great  pleasure  to 
me  just  to  be  here,  and  lie  and  look  out  on  these 
hills." 

"Eafe,"  whispered  Hester,  kneeling  on  the 
hassock  by  the  lounge,  "  I  don't  really  care  about 
going.  Can't  I  stay  with  you  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Rafe.  "  I  should  n't  enjoy 
it  one  bit.  I  am  going  to  write  a  long  letter. 
And  then  I  shall  read  a  little,  and  then  I 
shall  watch  for  you  to  come.  It  will  be  great 
fun  to  see  you  far  off  down  there  on  the  lake, 
and  coming  nearer  and  nearer  and  higher  and 
higher.  First  you  will  be  ants,  and  then  you 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  277 

will  be  birds,  and  then  you  will  be  people.  And 
then  I  shall  hear  the  bells,  and  then  the  voices, 
and  you  will  all  tumble  in  rosy  and  cold,  and  we 
shall  have  a  big  fire,  and  I  shall  hear  all  about  it" 

"  I  say,  Kafe,"  said  Joe,  "  I  never  shall  be  as 
good  as  you  are,  but  I'll  stay  at  home  with 
you." 

"  No,  you  won't,  then,"  said  Rafe. 

And  here  dinner  was  announced. 

"  Well,"  said  grandmother,  as  soon  as  they  had 
finished  the  happy  noisy  feast,  "  there 's  no  time 
to  lose  if  we  're  to  be  back  before  dark.  '  The 
dark  comes  early  down  to-night.'  Maria  will 
have  the  hot- water  bottles  and  the  hot  soap- 
stones.  You  want  your  leggings  and  mufflers 
and  all  your  wraps.  Rafe  !  you  shall  have  these 
books  of  autographs  to  turn  over.  I  don't  let 
every  one  touch  them.  Come,  are  you  all 
ready  ? "  and  with  a  great  deal  of  confusion  and 
exclamation  and  commiseration  and  regretting, 
and  running  back  for  last  words  to  Rafe,  the 
big  sleigh  was  off  at  last. 

Rafe  lifted  himself  on  his  elbows  as  he  lay  on 
the  lounge,  and  watched  them  winding  away 


278  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

down  the  hill,  appearing  and  disappearing,  till 
at  last,  no  bigger  than  a  wasp  to  his  unaccus- 
tomed sight,  they  dashed  out  upon  the  broad 
frozen  lake.  Then  he  wished  it  were  blue  sky 
and  sunshine,  and  made  Danby  put  some  light 
wood  on  the  fire-dogs,  and  look  out  to  see  which 
way  the  wind  was  blowing,  and  felt  all  right 
when  he  found  that  it  was  blowing  south,  south 
with  only  a  little  east  in  it.  And  then  he  spread 
his  tablet  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Lucia,  and  real- 
ized that  the  smell  of  the  spicy  green  which 
Maria  and  John  and  Jane  were  hanging  up  began 
to  make  it  really  seem  like  Christmas  Eve.  And 
at  last  he  opened  the  big  book  of  autographs 
that  it  had  been  one  of  Grandmother  Maurice's 
long  winter-day  amusements  to  set  in  order,  and 
the  first  thing  he  saw  was  a  page  of  the  manu- 
script of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  And  then,  as  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  leaf  where  the  Wizard  of  the 
North  had  laid  his  hand  before  him,  up  sprang 
the  oaks  of  Sherwood  Forest ;  and  bold  Kobin 
Hood  blew  his  horn ;  and  the  Black  Knight  rode 
along  with  the  chance  sunbeam  glancing  on  his 
armor;  and  Allan-a-Dale's  tune  rang  through 


AT   OLD   BENBOW.  279 

the  recesses  of  the  wood,  while  Wamba,  the  son 
of  Witless,  trolled  the  refrain ;  and  this  great 
laugh,  it  was  the  voice  of  Friar  Tuck. 

Full  of  his  pleasant  thoughts,  Eafe  absently 
turned  two  or  three  leaves,  and  in  an  instant 
almost  a  thousand  years  had  fled  —  for  was  he 
not  with  Jules  Verne  beneath  the  sea  ?  "  Oh, 
this  is  like  magic ! "  said  Eafe,  gleefully ;  for 
the  leaves  fluttered  between  his  fingers  and  fell 
open  on  a  page  where  lay  a  note  written  by 
Herschel  when  he  was  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
measuring  the  stars  in  the  southern  heavens,  and 
straightway  Eafe  was  off  like  a  witch  on  a 
broomstick  through  black  midnight  air  among 
stars  and  moons  and  meteors.  "  Oh ! "  cried 
Eafe,  aloud,  "how  much  better  this  is — the 
writing  they  really  wrote,  with  some  of  their 
own  lives  in  it  —  than  just  the  miserable  names 
people  send  for  your  collection,  with  some  of  the 
annoyance  you  give  in  them  !  I  wonder  if  there 
is  one  of  Washington's  here?"  For  Grand- 
mother Maurice's  collection  was  on  a  scale  that 
would  have  allowed  him  to  expect  to  find  the 
script  of  King  Solomon,  if  there  had  been  such 


280  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

a  thing  to  find.  It  was  while  Kafe  hung  over 
the  quaint  and  precise  handwriting  of  the  Father 
of  our  Country,  and  felt  himself  proudly  crossing 
the  Delaware  amidst  blocks  of  ice  making  way 
for  him,  that  he  found  himself  wondering  why 
the  ink  had  faded  so,  and  all  at  once  became 
aware  that  the  light  was  dim ;  that  there  was 
a  strange  hustling  and  bustling  in  the  air ;  that 
it  was  really  snowing ;  that  indeed  it  must  have 
begun  to  snow  large  soft  flakes  some  time  since ; 
and  that  the  wind  was  rising,  rising,  and  blow- 
ing round  the  gables,  —  blowing  from  moment  to 
moment  more  and  more,  as  if  it  blew  from  the 
regions  of  perpetual  storm. 

And  there  were  Grandmother  Maurice  and  the 
children  out  in  it !  And  he  had  been  so  ab- 
sorbed he  had  not  noticed  how  late  it  was  grow- 
ing. And  he  really  felt  for  a  little  as  if  he  were 
somehow  to  blame.  For  Rafe  was  usually 
attending  so  carefully  to  every  one's  welfare, 
that  having  forgotten  all  the  world  in  his  own 
pleasure  for  an  hour  or  two  seemed  to  him  a 
great  piece  of  selfishness  ;  and  all  the  more  when 
he  saw  that  Jane  and  Danby  were  looking  out 


AT  OLD  BENBOW.  281 

anxiously,  that  Maria  had  bound  up  her  face 
for  the  toothache,  which  she  always  did  when 
she  was  anxious,  Mamie  had  once  told  him ; 
and  that  John  had  gone  down  the  mountain  a 
little  way  to  see  if  he  could  spy  the  sleigh  on 
the  lake. 

But  the  gale  of  driving  snow  made  it  impos- 
sible to  see  ten  yards  ahead,  and  the  atmosphere 
was  already  almost  like  twilight,  and  John  la- 
bored back  breathlessly. 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is  they  '11  be  getting  up 
this  hill,"  he  gasped. 

"  Does  it  often  storm  so  here  ? "  called  Rafe,  as 
John  and  a  gust  of  wind  and  snow  together  burst 
in  at  the  side  door. 

"  When  it  do  be  blowing  a  southeaster,"  said 
John. 

"  Oh,  sorra  me  ! "  cried  Jane.  "  Sure,  if  you  'd 
tould  me  I  was  bringing  the  childer  up  here  till 
their  deaths  —  " 

"  Hould  yer  blathering  tongue ! "  cried  John. 

And  while  their  concern  found  vent  in  sharp 
words,  Rafe  waited,  all  but  holding  his  breath, 
his  lounge  rolled  into  the  bay-window,  with  the 


282  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

servants  clustering  behind  him,  while  the  swift 
mountain  storm  grew  wilder  and  wilder,  and  the 
air  darker  and  darker,  all  their  hearts  beating  so 
that  each  felt  the  other  could  hear. 

"  They  do  be  losing  their  way,  so  they  do,"  said 
John,  at  last.  "  I  'd  a-known  they  wud,  wid  that 
bye  Thomas  a-driving.  If  the  missis 'd  a-taken 
me,  I'd  not  have  gone  a  step,  so  I  wouldn't. 
But  ye  'd  as  sune  move  the  rock  o'  Cashel  as  the 
missis  when  she 's  fixed." 

"Do  you  suppose  they  have  really  lost  their 
way  ?  "  whispered  Eafe,  terror-struck.  "  How 
dark  it  is  getting ! " 

"  It  looks  so,"  said  Danby. 

"  And  the  little  children  —  they  11  be  so  fright- 
ened —  and  Hester  —  and  oh,  my  own  dear  sister 
Marcia  is  there ! "  and  they  all  strained  their  eyes 
through  the  gloom. 

"  Oh,  Danby  !  Oh,  John  !  Is  n't  there  anything 
we  can  do  ? "  cried  Eafe  again,  in  a  little  while, 
when  it  had  grown  quite  dark,  and  their  own 
breathless  silence  made  the  storm  roaring  over- 
head seem  roaring  all  the  louder.  "  It 's  terrible 
to  be  staying  here  doing  nothing.  Can't  we  put 


AT  OLD  BENBOW.  283 

lamps  in  all  the  windows  that  they  may  see 
where  the  house  is,  and  head  this  way?" 

"  It  'ud  take  more  than  lamps  in  the  windows 
to  light  this  murk,"  said  John.  "  It  'ud  take  a 
bonfire  big  as  the  Dedannans  -kindled  on  the  hill 
of  Knockruish,  by  the  same  token,  and  that 
would  n't  do  it." 

"A  bonfire  !"  cried  Rafe.  "Oh,  Danby  !  Oh, 
John  !  We  can  have  it !  You  can  get  down 
there  to  the  big  tree,  can't  you  ?  You  can  try ! 
It 's  hollow  —  it 's  dead  and  dry  and  full  of  pitch 
—  it  will  burn  like  touchwood  ! " 

Meanwhile  Grandmother  Maurice  and  the  chil- 
dren had  wound  down  the  mountain-side  and 
dashed  out  upon  the  lake,  whose  hard  shield  rang 
under  the  horses'  feet,  with  great  jingling  of  bells, 
and  much  crying  and  calling  and  laughing,  Mar- 
nie  busy  showing  the  various  sights  of  cliff  and 
scaur,  and  telling  their  old  Indian  legends  to 
Bella  and  Marcia  and  Hester,  helped  by  Joe,  the 
little  children  singing  their  kindergarten  songs, 
and  Larry  silently  watching  the  leaden  shadows 
among  the  white  hills,  and  looking  for  gods  and 
monsters  in  their  great  outlines. 


284  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"Now  you  can  give  them  their  head,"  said 
grandmother  to  Thomas;  and  the  horses  fairly 
flew  across  the  lake,  and  grandmother  enjoyed 
the  swift  motion  and  the  exhilarating  flight  as 
much  as  any  of  them.  The  horses  themselves 
appeared  to  enjoy  it  most  of  all,  arching  their 
necks,  and  flinging  out  their  feet,  and  only  with 
difficulty  answering  the  rein  when,  at  grand- 
mother's quick  exclamation,  Thomas  pulled  them 
in. 

"  I  declare,"  she  said ;  "  I  do  believe  —  Is  n't 
it  snowing  ? " 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  grandmother  ! "  cried  Joe. 
"  What  if  it  is  ?  Just  a  couple  of  flakes." 

"  Maybe  it  is  only  a  flurry,"  said  grandmother. 

"It's  the  way  of  the  bad  ones,  mum,"  said 
Thomas,  touching  his  bear-skin  with  the  whip- 
handle. 

"But  I  must  show  Hester  the  cave,  grand- 
mother," said  Joe. 

"  And  the  mill-wheel,"  urged  Mamie. 

"  Yes,  grandmother,"  said  Larry.  "  Just  let  us 
look  at  the  blue  light  in  the  cave,  and  see  if  it 
is  n't  as  blue  as  the  grotto  Lucia  wrote  about." 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  285 

"It's  bluer,"  said  grandmother.  And  they 
drove  straight  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  lake, 
and  in  among  great  water-worn  rocks  at  the  foot 
of  the  spur  where  the  shrunken  stream  had  left 
ice-blocks  that  made  the  translucent  roof  of  a 
sort  of  dim  twilighted  cave,  in  whose  farther  end 
the  frozen  drippings  formed  a  stalagmite  in  the 
shape  of  a  throne. 

"It  makes  every  winter  and  it  melts  every 
summer,"  said  Mamie.  "But  we  might  have 
known  there  would  n't  be  any  blue  light  when 
the  sun  wasn't  shining." 

"  It  takes  sunlight  to  make  blue  shadows  out 
of  snow,"  said  Larry. 

"But  there's  the  echo  still,"  said  Mamie. 
And  she  began  to  sing,  "  Angels  ever  bright  and 
fair,"  and  presently  another  voice,  and  another, 
a  dozen  far  sweet  reedy  voices,  were  warbling  it 
after  her.  But  suddenly  she  stopped,  and  waited 
while  the  echoes  went  on,  one  warbling  after 
another,  till  far  and  far  and  faint  away  they  too 
stopped  as  suddenly.  "  The  echo 's  so  dull,  there 
must  be  something  the  matter  with  the  air,"  she 
said. 


286  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  A  lot  of  snow  in  it,  miss,"  said  Thomas. 

"  We  —  we  —  really  —  don't  you  think  we  'd 
better  turn  ?  Grandmother,  don't  let  Joe  get 
out."  For  Joe  was  preparing  to  climb  the  throne 
and  make  a  speech. 

"  Joe,"  called  his  grandmother,  "  if  you  get  out 
we  shall  go  and  leave  you." 

"  Then  I  won't  get  out,"  said  Joe. 

"  There  's  a  squall  coming,  and  the  horses  will 
have  all  they  can  do  to  make  their  way  back." 

"  Echo  ! "  cried  Mamie.  "  Say,  shall  we  go 
home  ? " 

"  Home,"  called  all  the  echoes.  "  Home,  home, 
home  ! " 

"It  does  seem  too  bad  to  leave  them  here, 
does  n't  it  ? "  said  Marcia.  "  The  white  fairy 
things." 

"  And  you  won't  see  the  mill-wheel  all  loaded 
with  ice,  like  a  great  ghost,"  said  Larry. 

"Now  you  may  turn,  Thomas,"  said  grand- 
mother. "There's  plenty  of  room.  There  we 
are.  Let  them  have  their  way,  and  see  what 
time  they'll  make."  And  back  they  went;  the 
wind,  which  they  had  hardly  noticed  when  it 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  287 

was  behind  them,  blowing  now  in  their  faces, 
and  a  thick  cloud  of  damp  snow  blinding  and 
bewildering  them. 

"  And  here  I  am,"  thought  Grandmother  Maur- 
ice, "  with  a  parcel  of  other  people's  children ! " 

Grandmother  Maurice  seldom  talked  much 
when  she  was  worried.  She  saw  that  the  horses 
were  making  all  the  speed  they  could.  But  she 
was  very  still. 

"  Dear,  dear ! "  thought  grandmother,  soon 
again.  "As  if  I  weren't  old  enough  to  know 
better ! " 

Joe  began  to  whistle  "  Moneymusk,"  and  Mar- 
cia  joined,  and  presently  Larry  made  a  third. 

"Oh,  don't!"  cried  Mamie.  "It  makes  me 
feel  as  if  something  were  going  to  happen  when 
you  whistle  to  keep  your  courage  up."  And  they 
left  off,  as  she  did,  because  the  wind  whisked  the 
sound  off  their  lips.  "  Grandmother ! "  screamed 
Marnie,  "we  can't  see  either  shore!  Are  you 
sure  you  're  going  right,  Thomas  ? " 

"  No,  miss,  I  ain't  sure  of  nothing,"  was  what 
Thomas  seemed  to  say,  as  the  wind  snatched  the 
words. 


288  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FEIENDS. 

And  at  that,  Bella,  who  had  been  thinking 
how  warm  and  cheerful  they  all  were  round 
Mrs.  Tenterden's  fireside,  where  she  might  have 
been,  with  the  soft  red  lights  and  the  fragrant 
flowers,  began  to  cry. 

"  Before  I'd  be  a  baby,  Bella  ! "  Marcia  tried  to 
say. 

But  Hester  drew  her  arm  round  Bella.  "  You 
lay  your  head  on  my  shoulder,"  she  said,  with 
her  mouth  on  Bella's  ear.  "  God  is  with  us  just 
as  much  as  if  we  were  on  shore."  And  they 
bent  their  heads  down  together  in  a  gust  of  wind 
that  almost  took  their  breath  away. 

"  How  could  I  have  been  such  a  fool  ? "  groaned 
grandmother.  "  When  I  saw  the  storm  coming, 
too!" 

"  Good  experience  for  us,  grandmother,"  shouted 
Joe,  leaning  back  towards  her.  "I  guess  the 
horses  know  the  way.  Thomas  doesn't." 

"  Thomas  ! " 

"  No,  mum,"  said  Thomas,  turning  round  in  his 
seat  so  that  she  could  hear  his  voice,  for  the  wind 
shrieked  now  between  the  hills  and  from  cliff  to 
cliff.  "  No,  mum.  And  I  'm  mistook  or  we  've 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  289 

been  round  the  lake  once  and  again  —  wot  with 
the  snow  thickening  and  the  sudding  dusk. 
And  there 's  an  air-hole,  there  certingly  is ;  and 
I  —  I  don't  know  wot  we  '11  do  ! " 

"I  do,"  said  grandmother.  "You  come  here, 
and  I  '11  take  the  reins  myself.  There,  that  gust 
has  passed,  there  '11  be  a  little  pause  in  the  storm. 
It  seems  as  if  I  had  driven  long  enough  round 
here  to  know  my  way  by  instinct.  I  'm  sure  the 
horses  ought  to." 

"The  hosses  is  'most  beat  out,  mum,"  said 
Thomas.  "  I  '11  buckle  on  their  blankets  and 
lead  them  a  bit  You  stay  quiet,  mum,  begging 
parding.  It's  no  use  letting  the  cold  into  the 
sleigh." 

"If  it  wasn't  getting  as  dark  as  a  beggar's 
pocket,  we  should  find  our  bearings." 

"  And  the  wind 's  that  shifty  and  beastly,  you 
can't  tell  where  you  be  by  it."  And  talking  and 
grumbling  to  himself,  as  grandmother  talked  and 
grumbled  to  herself,  for  no  one  could  hear  either 
of  them,  Thomas  led  the  horses  on  a  little  way. 

"  Oh,  how  quickly  it  grew  dark !"  cried  Mamie, 
in  the  lull. 

19 


290  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

"  That 's  just  the  way  it  does  at  home,  down  m 
the  islands,"  said  Hester.  "It's  daylight;  and 
all  at  once  it's  dark  —  but  such  beautiful  soft 
dark,  with  two  or  three  great  stars  and  the 
flower-breaths." 

"Yes,  tell  us  about  it  now,"  said  Marcia, 
mockingly.  "  It  seems  so  commonplace  and  safe 
and  pleasant  to  hear  about  out  here  lost  on  the 
lake  in  a  storm." 

"  Why,  Marcia,"  said  Mamie,  "  we  're  not  lost. 
Grandmother  '11  get  us  safely  home  again." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  grandmother. 
"  If  there  were  anything  under  the  canopy  to  go 
by,  anything  we  could  relate  to  anything  else  — 
a  light  anywhere  to  follow  up  —  why,  then,  we 
might  get  somewhere.  It  seems  to  be  dangerous 
to  stir,  now  I  think  of  that  air-hole.  I  don't 
know  but  we  may  have  to  stay  here  all  night." 
And  at  that  little  Kate  lifted  up  her  voice  and 
wept. 

"Hush,  hush!"  said  Larry.  The  gale  had 
sighed  down  to  a  long  lull  before  breaking  out 
again,  for  even  storms  sometimes  seem  to  weary 
of  their  own  violence.  "  If  any  one  said,  '  Let 's 


AT   OLD  BENBOW.  291 

go  down  to  the  lake  and  camp  out,'  you'd  think 
it  great  sport." 

"But  we'd  have  a  tent  of  hemlock  boughs, 
then,"  said  Joe,  "and  a  fire,  and  —  " 

"Oh,  I'm  so  cold,  grandmother,"  whimpered 
Rose. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  rather  fun  to  stay  here 
all  night,"  said  Joe. 

"  And  be  frozen  stiff  by  morning,"  said  Larry. 

"  Oh,  grandmother  ! "  roared  little  Kate,  "  I  'm 
afraid  — I'm  afraid!" 

"  Oh,  it 's  so  dark  ! "  cried  Eose.  "  I  thought 
it  was  white  out  in  a  snow-storm.  Oh,  grand- 
mother, how  dark  it  is  !  How  quick  it  got  dark ! 
Oh,  Larry,  do  you  —  do  you  —  think  —  the  world 
is  coming  to  an  end  ? " 

"It's  a  pretty  sort  of  Christmas  Eve  we're 
having,"  said  Mamie.  "  And  you  're  all  company ! 
And  grandmother  was  going  to  take  us  round 
the  mountain  to  the  village  —  it's  only  a  mile 
that  way  —  to  ring  the  new  chimes  she  has 
given  to  the  church  there." 

"  There  11  be  no  bell-ringing  for  us  to-night," 
said  grandmother.  "  If  some  one  had  the  sense 


292  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FEIENDS. 

to  ring  them  now,  we  might  tell  where  we  are. 
I  wonder  it  does  n't  occur  to  John." 

And  then  Marnie  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Marcia,  "  if  it  was  n't  for  Joe 
and  me,  what  a  melancholy  party  we  should  be  ! 
I  rather  like  it  now." 

"It's  nothing  to  like,"  growled  grandmother. 
"  Come  !  Can't  the  horses  go  on  now  ? " 

"  Go  on  where,  mum  ?  It 's  no  sort  of  use  to 
try,"  said  Thomas;  "the  wind's  beginning  to 
sing  again." 

"Then  you  get  back  to  your  seat  again  and 
tuck  in  the  robes,  and  we  '11  wait  on  Providence. 
They  say  Providence  takes  care  of  children  and 
fools.  And  I'm  sure  here's  a  chance.  There 
never  was  a  bigger  fool  than  I !  And  these  deli- 
cate little  creatures,  and  that  South  Sea  Island 
child,  and  my  own  darlings." 

"Grandmother,"  said  Larry,  "it  isn't  your 
fault.  We  should  n't  have  given  you  any  peace 
if  you  hadn't  come." 

"What  if  — what  if  — the  wolves  —  "  said 
little  Kate,  with  chattering  teeth. 

"There  isn't  one  within  a  hundred  miles  of 


AT  OLD   BENBOW.  293 

us,"  said  grandmother,  very  decidedly.  But 
there  was  an  ominous  silence  in  that  sleigh,  for 
the  stoutest  heart  stood  still. 

The  wind  blew  up  a  long  stream  again.  A 
hundred  voices  seemed  shrieking  with  it.  It 
pressed  against  them  like  a  great  shoulder.  The 
thick  snow  was  blinding ;  the  darkness  impene- 
trable and  suffocating. 

"  I  ought  to  be  put  in  leading  strings,"  said 
grandmother.  "Well,  Thomas,"  she  exclaimed 
then,  making  him  hear  as  well  as  she  could,  "  we 
can't  see  one  another,  we  can't  hear  one  another. 
Turn  the  horses  away  from  the  wind,  and  we  '11 
pile  the  rugs  up  round  the  children  till  the  moon 
rises.  She  rises  before  midnight,  and  will  be 
some  help." 

"If  we  ain't  all  dead  first,"  muttered  Thomas. 

"  It  must  be  past  five  by  this." 

"Then,"  said  Hester,  "if  we're  going  to  bed 
out  here  in  the  storm,  we  had  better  say  our 
prayers." 

"  Look  ! "  cried  Marcia,  suddenly.    "  What  is 

that?" 

"  What  ? "    "  Where  ? "    "  Which  way  ?  "  came 


294  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

a  chorus  of  replies,  rising  shrilly  over  the 
storm. 

"  There !  Directly  before  us,"  she  screamed. 
"  Up  in  the  air  —  far  off.  Oh  !  oh  !  " 

"  Oh  ! "  exclaimed  Grandmother  Maurice ; 
"  it 's  that  very  Providence.  The  shining  of  a 
flaming  fire  by  night." 

For  there,  blazing  up  to  the  sky,  was  a  pillar, 
a  tower  of  flame,  throwing  light  far  round  itself 
through  the  tempest,  every  snow-flake  of  which 
looked  like  a  spark  of  fire  in  its  illumination,  a 
sort  of  splendid  bonfire  that  the  wind  fanned 
into  double  glory.  And,  as  if  sketched  upon  the 
sky,  there  stood  out  above  and  behind  it  the 
Maurice  homestead  itself  on  its  hillside,  and 
among  its  snow-filled  gardens  the  house,  the 
bright  light  reflected  from  every  window. 

Never  anything  looked  so  beautiful  to  all 
those  eager,  half-blinded  eyes  as  that  far-away 
phantom  of  a  house  gleaming  through  a  haze 
of  storm  in  the  light  of  the  great  burning  tree. 

Thomas  did  not  wait  for  a  second  glance,  but 
shook  the  reins  and  the  whip,  and  the  horses 
reared  and  plunged  and  went  at  a  run ;  and  in 


AT  OLD  BENBOW.  295 

ten  minutes  they  were  away  up  on  the  mountain 
road,  shaking  off  showers  of  bell-notes  as  they 
went  slipping  along  the  old  familiar  way  at  last 

"It's  Eafe!"  cried  Marcia.  "I  might  have 
known  he'd  find  out  a  way  to  help." 

"  And  he  's  cleared  the  toboggan  slide  for  us," 
answered  Joe.  "  When  that  tree 's  done  burning, 
there  won't  be  a  bump  left." 

And  then,  all  silent  and  half  breathless,  they 
held  their  heads  down  away  from  the  wind  while 
the  horses  dashed  up  and  along.  And  just  as 
they  stopped  at  the  longed-for  door  there  came 
faintly,  sweetly,  on  the  long  sough  of  the  wind 
the  tune  of  the  new  chimes  from  the  village 
round  the  mountain,  perhaps  reflected  from  the 
storm-cloud,  the  ghost,  the  dream  of  a  tune  ring- 
ing in  the  Christmas  Eve. 

"  Well,  grandmother,"  said  the  undaunted  Joe, 
as  they  trooped  round  the  great  hall  fire  that 
John  and  Danby  had  heaped,  "  you  see  we  have 
our  Christmas  presents,  after  all." 

"  How  is  that  ? "  asked  grandmother,  quickly. 

"  Our  lives  !  our  lives ! "  cried  Joe. 

"  Well,  then,  if  God  has  given  you  your  lives 


296  HESTER  STANLEY'S  FRIENDS. 

over  again  for  a  Christmas  present,  it  befits  you 
to  use  them  as  if  it  were  always  Christmas  Eve." 
"  Oh !  "  said  Hester,  "  I  really  will." 
"  I  think  you  will,"  said  grandmother.  "  We  '11 
have  supper  now  if  the  fright  has  n't  demoralized 
Maria.  What  were  you  frightened  about,  Maria  ? 
Didn't  you  suppose  the  horses  knew  the  way 
home  ?  Did  you  think  anything  could  happen 
when  I  was  along  ?  You  were  right.  It  was 
a  dark  moment  for  me  out  there  in  the  storm 
with  a  parcel  of  other  people's  children.  My 
lad,"  said  Grandmother  Maurice,  going  over  to 
Rafe's  lounge,  which  Danby  had  built  up  with 
cushions,  and  where  Marcia  was  hugging  him 
hysterically  —  "  my  lad,"  said  grandmother,  tak- 
ing his  thin  face  between  her  hands  and  kissing 
it,  "  you  have  learned  that  sometimes  those  who 
seem  to  be  shut  away  from  any  work  are  those 
that  do  the  most.  We  shouldn't  be  here  to- 
night but  for  you !  I  think,"  said  grandmother, 
turning  to  th§  others,  "  as  long  as  we  have  had 
our  Christmas-tree  —  and  the  most  magnificent 
Christmas-tree  I  ever  saw  —  that  now  we  will 
have  a  little  service  of  song  after  supper.  The 


AT   OLD  BENBOW.  297 

house  smells  like  a  church,  anyway,  in  all  this 
balsam-fir  and  hemlock.  And  I  don't  know 
what  that  voice  like  a  flute  was  given  to  you  for, 
Mamie,  if  it  was  n't  to  sing  to-night,  and  every 
night,  'Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings 
flow  ! ' " 

"  I  hope  there  's  something  nice  for  supper," 
said  Joe. 


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